Beacon Hills Eye Clinic
by flamyshine
Summary: Derek has a problem with his eyes and goes to see the new eye doctor in town. And, if he keeps having all kinds of eye problems, his eyes must be weaker than he thought. To add to his woes, it turns out that his whole pack has weak eyes.
1. The new eye doctor in town

**Title**: Beacon Hills Eye Clinic

**Pairings**: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski/Cora Hale, Scott McCall/Isaac Lahey, Peter Hale/Lydia Martin, Cora Hale/Allison Argent (All pre-established relationships)

**Other characters**: Miss Morell, Sheriff Stilinski

**Rating**: R

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters.

**Warning**: none

**Author's note**: Dedicated to everyone who voted hard in the slash madness poll :) Despite the abrupt rule changes, I think we fought valiantly until the very end.

* * *

Derek Hale was a morning person. While the rest of his family liked to laze around in bed, he got straight up once he opened his eyes. His bed only held one purpose and it was sleeping; not the entertaining kind but the necessary kind. So it had been no ordeal for him to show up at half past eight in front of the new eye clinic.

The first thing he noticed when he walked in was the smell of newness. The environment-friendly material wasn't intruding even on his keen nose. Then he saw pictures of two doctors in the hall. The male one had moles all over his face while the female one had red hair and piercing eyes. And, last but not least, he came face to face with the 'Eye of Sauron' in front of the reception desk. It seemed like there were piercing eyes everywhere.

"Good morning, sir! Welcome to our clinic! How can we help you?"Scott asked cheerfully. He loved working as a nurse, following in his mother's footsteps.

"Hi. I hear you also cure werewolves?"

"That's correct! Any issue is _ephemeral_ in our doctors' good hands."

Derek looked at the nurse with concern. His heart was beating too fast. He hoped that the staff wasn't on drugs or anything. Even _he_ wasn't that excited this early in the morning, and he was a morning person. But then, when was the last time he got excited? When he had finally won a fight and had sent the big bad home?

"Would you fill out this form, please?" Scott handed over a pen and a sheet of paper. "Dr. Stilinski will be with you shortly. He's the specialist on werewolf optimology."

Derek frowned. "You mean ophthalmology."

"Yes, that…" Scott cleared his throat. It wasn't his fault that Allison had hidden his cheat sheet.

Derek sat down in one of the chairs and filled out the form. The nurse was very worrying but he didn't want to judge the clinic until he met the doctor. The guy in the picture had looked far too young to be experienced but he was in Beacon Hills, not in New York City. He would have to get help wherever he could.

* * *

"Dr. Stilinski, your first patient is here!"

Stiles smiled at the announcement blaring through the intercom. He hated being bored when he was still full of energy. "Please send him in."

"He's a new one and he's hot," Scott whispered as quietly as he could.

Stiles laughed. "Thanks for the heads up, Scott. But you think almost everyone's hot."

Scott didn't say another word and led Derek into the office. The doctor would believe him as soon as the patient walked through the door.

'Holy shit…' Stiles rubbed his eyes as Adonis walked in. When had he and Lydia moved their practice to Greece?

"Here's the chart, doctor." Scott grinned as Stiles' heartbeat threatened to tear his eardrums.

"Thank you, nurse." Stiles glared at his best friend who hadn't given him a better warning. The new patient wasn't just hot; he was the ideal creature to roam the Earth and the living sculpture that Gods from all religions had collaborated on.

"Good morning," Derek tried not to sound annoyed. The doctor didn't seem to be any less high than the nurse.

"Good morning, Mr. Hale. Please take a seat." Stiles managed to give him a smile. "It says here that your Alpha vision's giving you some trouble?"

"Yeah, the infrared's messed up. It's a bit blurry."

"I see. Did you suffer any injuries to the eyes or the head?"

"Yeah, I went up against a pack of rogue Alphas last week."

Stiles blinked, wondering if the patient was serious. His tone had been so casual as if he had played a ball game with a bunch of friends. "You got all the other injuries treated? Or did they heal themselves?"

"Most of them healed, but the ones left by the leader needed treatment."

"Ah, so the leader must've hit you on the head or something."

"He bashed me over the head with a tree trunk. Three times."

Stiles winced in horror and compassion. "I'm sorry to hear that. If you want, I can recommend you a therapist. Miss Morell is the best in town."

"Thanks but I've gone through worse. Most of my family died in a fire because my ex burned down the house. And, my uncle killed my elder sister so I had to kill him. But he came back from the dead and is still alive. Those Alphas killed two of my betas too. And, my latest girlfriend turned out to be a psychotic mass murderer. She killed a dozen people in a nearby town. So yeah, my head injury's nothing." Derek found it easy to talk to the doctor. He could smell waves of sincere concern and genuine empathy. The doctor must've lost someone close to him too.

"Well, uh, let me know when you need Miss Morell's number." Stiles hoped that his patient would eventually find some peace of mind like him.

"Okay then, let's take a look at those beautiful eyes." He pulled one of the machines and motioned for Adonis to wheel his chair in front of it.

Derek raised his eyebrows at the compliment. It wasn't very professional.

"Oh, don't mind me. I think everyone's eyes are beautiful. Otherwise I wouldn't be looking at eyes all day."

Stiles' bright smile activated Derek's Alpha vision. It was to protect his human eyes but Derek quickly deactivated it. It was a little bit embarrassing.

"Has that been happening lately too? I promise this machine won't make your eyes sensitive. I just want to take a closer look, that's all. Think of it as a big microscope."

Derek didn't feel like explaining the real reason behind the activation, so he nodded and put his chin on the machine.

Stiles focused on examining Derek's eyes. If this beautiful creature needed his help, he was going to get it. "Okay, now the Alpha vision, please."

Derek turned his eyes red and sat in silence, listening to the doctor's heartbeat. It seemed like he wasn't on drugs after all. The rhythm had calmed down to a pleasant level even though it was slightly faster than average. Now that the heartbeat didn't bother him, he noticed how nice the doctor smelled. Having to deal with patients all day, it must be important to leave a good impression.

"Hmm… it looks fine so I don't think there's any major problem. But I'd like to run another test to determine the extent of the damage."

The office went dark before Derek could ask about the test.

"Quick! What am I doing to my face?"

Derek rolled his Alpha eyes. "You're pulling your left ear and rubbing your nose."

"Good! A harder one. How many fingers am I holding up?" Stiles waved three fingers in the air.

Derek folded his arms. He hadn't seen many eye doctors in his life but he had a feeling that this wasn't an orthodox test. He would have to check the doctor's credentials under his picture on his way out.

"Come on, Mr. Hale! Give me a number!"

"Three."

"Excellent! One last question. How many fingers now?" Stiles started to jump up and down, still waving three fingers.

Derek was about to answer 'four' when the doctor knocked down the model eye on the desk.

"Oops!" Stiles tried to catch it but he couldn't see anything in the pitch darkness.

The eye rolled on the floor and Derek got up to help. That was when the doctor dropped to his knees and bent down. Derek stood dead in his tracks at the sight of the doctor's ass. Apparently the eye had rolled under a medicine cabinet. The doctor's gown had hiked up and his pants were tight enough to give him the perfect view. Derek felt his eyes come into focus as he stared and stared. The lines weren't blurry anymore. Orthodox or not, the test had fixed his problem.

"Ah, sorry about that." Stiles put the eye back in place and turned on the lights. "I'm sure they'll heal on their own with a bit more time, but let me prescribe you some eye drops. And, try not to use the infrared for a while unless it's absolutely necessary and…"

The doctor was giving him important instructions but Derek couldn't care less. All he could think about was how the doctor's ass would look even better without any fabric getting in the way. It was highly inappropriate to undress his doctor with his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself and didn't want to.

Perhaps the doctor was into guys. It was a shame that the Alpha vision didn't come with a gaydar. Perhaps the doctor was single. There wasn't a ring on his hand or a picture on his desk. Perhaps he could ask him out sometime and give his bed another purpose.

Thoughts multiplied in his head while the doctor kept moving his pretty mouth. He could think about many different things to do with that mouth, but he would have to explore those possibilities on his way home. It would be even more inappropriate to sport a hard-on in front of his doctor.

"Thank you. I'll see you next week." Derek stood up as soon as silence filled the room.

"Oh, I hope you'll feel better and won't have to come in again." Stiles smiled. He didn't think that the patient would suffer for another week.

"See you next week," Derek stated clearly and left the office. He already knew that his eyes were going to give him more trouble. If the infrared worked fine, something else would need to be fixed.

* * *

"You're back!" Isaac squealed from the couch as soon as Derek stepped inside the loft. He had a book in his lap but it was just for show. He had been dying for Derek to come back.

"How was the trip to the clinic?" He was the one who had recommended that particular clinic. Dr. Stilinski had treated him when his tear glands had dried up.

"It was fine." Derek sniffed the air before locking the door. He couldn't smell any threats and Isaac didn't seem in need of a run.

"How fine?" Isaac knew that he was fishing for compliments but he didn't care. Derek wasn't the most talkative Alpha and he wasn't going to miss this chance.

Thankfully, Derek knew what his beta wanted. "The doctor was efficient and the staff was kind. Thanks, Isaac."

"You're welcome!" Isaac got so excited that he wolfed out a little. "Isn't the doctor cute? I like his long hair and upturned nose."

"He's all right." Derek thought about the doctor's smile.

"He is. But I like his nurse better. His name is Scott and you can almost see him wag his tail. He told me he used to work at the vet's a few years back. I bet he got along well with other puppies."

Isaac laughed at the mental image of Scott wagging his bushy tail in front of some puppies that looked at him in awe. "Hmm, I don't know if this makes me a little speciesist, but I think I like werewolves better."

Derek shrugged as he got himself a glass of water. "It's just a matter of preference. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Aww, that's so sweet!"

Isaac grinned and got up to hug his Alpha. Derek saw it coming and ran up the stairs, but Isaac was determined to show him how much he loved him. There had been times when he had wished that he had chosen a better Alpha, but that was all in the past. He knew better than anyone that Derek always tried his damned best to keep him safe and healthy. Derek looked out for him in a way that his own dad had never had.

"Gotcha!" Isaac yelled in victory as he threw his arms around Derek's shoulders. He had a feeling that the Alpha had let him catch him but it didn't matter. They were rolling on the floor now and he couldn't stop laughing. He could smell his own joy and it was a good scent on him.

Derek pricked up his ears as another heartbeat came into play. They had company but sadly, it wasn't Cora.

"Well, well, well, if this isn't the most heart-warming puppy roll I've ever seen." Peter climbed up the stairs. "You can't see it but underneath my designer clothes, I'm all melting inside."

"What do you want?" Derek gave Isaac one last squeeze and got back on his feet.

"I guess I want to know what put you in such a good mood. You used to roll on the floor when you were excited." Peter remembered the traumatizing days of babysitting.

"My infrared is fixed." Derek turned on his Alpha vision since he knew how much it annoyed Peter to realize that he wasn't the Alpha anymore.

"I'm glad to hear that. But there's no need to brag about it. Nobody likes a show-off."

"I'm sorry but I thought you just bragged about your designer clothes," Isaac chimed in.

"I was merely pointing out a fact." Peter held up a finger. "If I wanted to brag, I would've told you how that scarf looks great around your neck. Since I'm the one who picked it out with impeccable taste."

Isaac snorted. "As if you'd tell someone they look great. You think you're the only one who looks great in this town."

"That's true. But I won't apologize for looking handsome and knowing how to dress myself."

"I'll ask again. What do you want?" Derek's mood was quickly turning sour.

"Well, you still haven't told me why you were drooling all over the floor."

"I told you, infrared."

"Oh, please. Don't treat me like an idiot. You don't get all sappy because your eyes got fixed. Wait. Where did you get them fixed? Nobody comes home happy from Dr. Greenberg's office." Peter shivered. He'd never forget the doctor's gloomy wallpaper and his gloomier eyes.

"There's a new clinic in town." Isaac figured that it would only look suspicious if they hid it.

"Is that so?" Peter rubbed his chin. "The nurses must be hot. I should check it out sometime."

He had expected a growl from Derek but it came from Isaac instead. "Huh, interesting. Maybe someone's hot for the doctor then."

Derek glared at his uncle, judging him for trying such a simple trick. As if he'd fall for that.

Peter held up a hand. "No need to bore holes in my perfectly shaped skull. I just came by to take your pup shopping. There are only so many things one can do in this town. Oh, how I miss the glamour of big cities."

Peter sighed while Isaac jumped up from the floor. He didn't like the man and didn't trust him, but he couldn't deny the fact that Peter had an eye for fashion. He would even sleep in his new coat if he thought that his Alpha would approve.

"He can't be late for lunch," Derek made it clear. He had been working hard to have them function as a family again. "Cora will be back by one so I expect him to be here by then."

"You mean you expect _us_ to be here. Or am I not part of this family anymore?" Peter frowned. "I wouldn't bother playing house if this town had any type of entertainment, but like I said, it's Beacon Hills."

"What about the gay bar? I thought you were popular with the drag queens," Isaac offered. Family meals were much more fun without Peter.

"Say another word and I'm going to make a bold fashion statement out of you." Peter gave Isaac a sharp glance before holding his hand out to Derek.

"What?"

"Well, I'm not shopping with my own money. He's _your_ pup."

Derek pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed over one of his credit cards. "If you max it out, I'm going to make a bold _mess_ out of you."

Isaac tugged at Peter's arm before things had a chance to escalate. He could really use a new sweater and a pair of boots. "Don't worry. We'll be back by one!"

Derek grunted as he watched Isaac run down the stairs. It sucked that he couldn't kill Peter now. It seemed like Isaac had found a use for him.


	2. We aim to please your eyes

_Previously in 'Beacon Hills Eye Clinic'…_

_Derek had gone to see the new eye doctor to get his Alpha vision fixed and the doctor's perfect ass had helped his infrared snap back into focus. Peter had noticed how excited his nephew was when he caught him rolling on the floor with Isaac. Since there wasn't much to do in the small town and since he hated Dr. Greenberg, he had decided to check out the new clinic._

* * *

Every morning, the staff of the Beacon Hills Eye Clinic gathered in Stiles' office. Important matters were discussed, happy occasions were congratulated, and encouraging words were exchanged. Stiles made jokes to wake everyone up and Scott gave out hugs. Lydia praised them for their fashion and Allison gave out pointers on turning down patients.

The last order of business was going through the list of appointments. Some patients showed up unexpected, but Stiles and Lydia liked to know what they would be dealing with on the given day. While the nurses opened up the place, the doctors checked their respective lists. It seemed like just another day at the office until a gasp filled the room.

"Hmm, that didn't sound like a gasp of horror. It sounded more like a pleasant surprise." Lydia twirled her hair.

"I have a Mr. Hale on my list! But it's only been three days since Derek Hale was here. He said he'd be back next week!" Stiles was worried and excited at the same time; worried that the infrared got worse and excited to see the apex of apex hotties again.

"Oh my, you have a roving _eye_." Lydia's eyes twinkled as she started one of their favorite pastimes.

"Well, we obviously don't see eye to eye on that one." Stiles chuckled. He had just scored double.

"My eye. You eye up all of your hot patients. Whittemore, Mahealani, Mahealani's boyfriend, Mahealani's boyfriend's brother…"

"All right! You made your point. I can't help it if someone catches my eye! But I was just looking. I know we have a policy in place."

"Well, you surely don't look at those eye candies innocently. Trust me, I have an eagle eye."

"You mean an _evil_ eye." Stiles snickered.

"Do you want to get cross-eyed? Or get a black eye?" Lydia held up her fist.

"You just have a green eye 'cause my patients are hotter than yours. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."

"Now you're asking for a false eye. I think you should go with a glass eye."

"I'll hide in the airport and take the red eye before you punch me in the eye."

"But you won't have enough time. You'll lose an eye in the blink of an eye."

"If you do that, there won't be a dry eye in the house. Everyone loves me here."

"I think it'll be an eye-opener for you to meet everyone's eyes and see how dry they are."

Stiles decided to change tactics. "Oh, Lydia, please don't give me one in the eye. I don't want to miss your beautiful eyes that gratify the eye! It's a needle's eye to be around you and not feel the joy to the eye!" Yes! Stiles raised his arms in victory as he heard the fanfare in his mind.

"Hmm, I'll have to keep an eye on your eyes then. Don't let them wander too much." Lydia got up and strutted out of the office. She had been worshipped and the game had been good enough to spare her partner the pain in the eye.

* * *

It was a busy day but Stiles was having a great time. He treated both human and werewolf patients, daydreaming about Derek Hale in his spare time. He was allowed to look and fantasize, but they had a strict policy against dating patients. Lydia was the one who had come up with the idea and Stiles had supported it. Beacon Hills was a small town and there were only a few places that patients could get their eyes treated. He was happy to be single if it meant that he could practice in peace in his hometown, close to his dad.

"Dr. Stilinski, Mr. Hale is here!"

Stiles jumped at Scott's loud voice that shook the intercom. "Send him in, please."

He wondered if he was imagining things or if Scott had sounded strangely amused. It didn't take him long to figure out which one it was. Mr. Hale walked in all right, but it wasn't Derek.

'But he's Adonis 2.0…' Stiles gulped at the sight of his new patient. "Good afternoon, Mr. Hale. I'm Dr. Stilinski. Nice to meet you."

"Peter Hale. Likewise." Peter shook the offered hand. It was pale and soft, just the way he liked it.

"Please take a seat." Stiles smiled, trying to stop his brain from getting fried. Who was Peter Hale? Derek's big brother? A cousin? How many more beautiful Hales were out there?

"First, I'd like to tell you that you chose a great motto. You certainly please my eyes." Peter grabbed a seat, thinking about the sign in the waiting room: _We aim to please your eyes_.

"Oh, haha, thank you. It was my idea." Stiles blushed. He couldn't remember any of Allison's pointers to save his life.

"You're welcome. My nephew Derek was the one who recommended this place. I can see why he acted that day, like he knew how to have positive emotions."

"Wait, you're his uncle? But you look so young!" Stiles needed to know about Peter's daily and weekly beauty routines.

"Young enough to court you?" Peter looked hopeful. He had a feeling that kids these days didn't use the word 'court', but it was the message behind the word that mattered.

That was when Stiles remembered Derek mentioning an uncle who had murdered his sister and had come back from the dead. While Peter looked too good to have spent some time as a corpse, he couldn't rule out the possibility of treating a murderer. Had Peter been convicted and paid for his sin? But then, shouldn't he be in jail right now? Was an ephemeral (damn it, Scott) death a good enough punishment? How did you ask someone whether he was a murderer or not?

"Doctor, you're leaving me hanging here." Peter could smell confusion, denial, and fear. And, in the middle of that, there was unmistakable attraction.

"Sorry, I was just wondering how many uncles Derek had. But it's totally inappropriate to pry into patients' lives, so I'll keep that thought to myself."

"No need. I'm happy to help. I'm the only uncle left." Peter gave him a bright smile. Derek must've talked about him.

"Oh… I see." Stiles paled. He hoped that Scott could hold down Peter until his dad came to arrest him.

"Your fear's getting stronger." Peter frowned. "If you're concerned about my past, you can relax. Getting killed and buried wasn't too fun. I don't plan to kill anyone anytime soon."

"Right…'Cause that totally makes me feel better." Stiles didn't want to take such a tone with his patients but he was talking to a murderer.

"Glad to give you some peace." Peter chose to ignore the sarcasm.

"It was self-defense, right?" Derek's eyes had told him that it probably wasn't, but he wanted to hear both sides of the story.

"It was for my own survival, yes. Now can we move on to my eyes?" Peter was getting bored.

"Sure." Stiles decided to drop the matter. If Peter deserved more punishment, Derek could report him to the police himself or hand him a second death. "So you wrote here that you don't feel like you're healing fast enough?"

"That's right. Ever since I came back to life." Peter put his chin on the machine.

"Let's take a look. Is it just the eyes or do you heal slowly elsewhere too?"

"If this is you subtly asking about my recovery time, I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about." Peter would've winked if his face wasn't stuck in the machine.

Stiles let out a nervous laugh. Peter knew how to flirt. He appreciated a man who had a way with words. "Thanks for the unnecessary info, but you haven't answered my question, Mr. Hale."

"Call me Peter unless you're into 'Siiiir'," Peter purred. "And, I'm not sure but I think my eyes are the slowest to heal."

"Well, eyes are extremely sensitive even when you're a werewolf, so it may take extra time to heal. Let me run a couple of tests. But regardless of the results, I'd like to recommend some eye massage and exercise."

"Sounds good." Peter imagined those soft fingers pressing the skin around his eyes. "But I think my eyes get enough exercise, thanks to my nephew. I can't stop rolling my eyes around him." He gave the doctor a demonstration.

"Huh, being a smarty pants, aren't we? It's the doctor's order so you're going to follow it. And, Nurse McCall will help you with everything, including the test preps." Stiles wrote down the instructions for his nurse.

"Why, doctor, I didn't know you had such a forceful side. As if I needed more incentive to go after you." Peter finally gave him a wink.

"I'm flattered, Mr. Hale, but we're not allowed to go out with patients. I expect you to respect our policy." Stiles hoped that he didn't sound or smell wistful.

"Hmm, is that policy in place because patients couldn't keep their eyes off you? Or is it the other way around?"

Stiles smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know? Now if you don't have any further questions, Nurse McCall is waiting for you outside."

Peter got up with amusement glinting in his eyes. Perhaps this could be his new entertainment in town.

* * *

Seven o'clock in the Hale loft meant that it was time to get ready for dinner. Peter joined them a few times per week purely out of boredom, and today was one of those times. Cora chopped vegetables while Isaac stirred the soup. Derek carved the deer while Peter selected the wine.

"If we're having family meals, we should also talk about our days, don't you think?" Peter brought out wine glasses and placed them on the table.

"I already know what you did." Derek showed his uncle just how sharp the knife was. "You went shopping for clothes or silverware again."

Peter smirked. "That wouldn't have been a bad guess on any other day, but you're wrong today."

"You finally went to the gay bar?" Isaac asked as he peppered the soup.

"Nope, I went to see Derek's eye doc."

Derek stabbed the meat and killed the deer all over again. Isaac got worried, Cora got intrigued, and Peter got excited.

"He's my type of human, you see. Pretty, young, and smart with a nice and useful mouth on him." Peter smiled at his nephew.

"I don't know, he kinda sounds like _my_ type of human." Cora grinned. She had always been interested in Derek's toys.

"It doesn't matter whether he's your type or not. They have a 'no dating' policy. It's to avoid getting molested by people like you." Derek gave Peter and Cora a pointed look. He had read the explanation on the wall on his way out of the clinic.

"Oh, please. Rules are there to be broken." Peter rolled his eyes and got his daily exercise. "And, don't tell me you haven't pictured him in nothing but a doctor's gown. I wonder what would look paler, the gown or his skin?"

"I vote for his skin…" Isaac answered quietly. After all, he was the one who had seen Dr. Stilinski the most.

"Can we give him gifts? Or is that against the policy too?" Cora already liked the guy. Pale humans were her favorite.

"No gifts either." Derek went back carving. He was getting second thoughts about this whole family routine. He almost missed the days when he had eaten alone in his burnt down house.

"There's another hot doctor, you know. Dr. Lydia Martin." Isaac turned off the gas range. "She's very smart. Scott says she even reads archaic Latin. Well, he said archetype, but he meant archaic."

He hoped that he could steer his horny family to peace. There were four people at the clinic, so they could have one person each. "And, her nurse Allison Argent is a gorgeous badass. They're both very pale."

"Ooh!" Cora perked up as she diced another carrot. "Perhaps I should quit training celebrities and work there. They all come tanned these days."

"Well, in any case, none of us are going back to Dr. Greenberg's." Peter shuddered. "You go in there with a bad eye and come out with a bad soul."

Isaac and Cora laughed while Derek put down the knife. Dinner was ready to be served.

* * *

"Hey, I think we're good to go now." Allison looked around the clinic one last time. They were ready to close up for the day.

"Scott?" She found her colleague sitting at the reception desk with a chart in his hands. Something was off. Scott could usually hear her even when she whispered in the broom closet.

"Scott? Is everything okay?" She headed to the desk.

"Yeah, everything's fine." Scott looked up in surprise. When had she come out of the broom closet?

"Hey, I know we're not together anymore but you can always talk to me."

"I know." Scott gave her a smile. "There's just not much to talk about."

Allison sat on the desk and took the chart out of his hands. It was Isaac Lahey's. "You don't want to talk about this? What's stopping you from calling him? You must've memorized his number by now." She giggled.

"Well, for a starter, we have a 'no dating' policy."

"But that's mainly for Stiles and Lydia. Remember how Stiles said if it's a former patient and if we really want to go for it, we can go for it? We just have to let them know."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure if I really want to go for it."

"Why not? I think he likes you too. He smiled a lot around you."

Scott made a painful sound and put his head in her lap. "Allison, I've only ever gone out with _you_. I loved you so much and tried so hard, but it still didn't work out. I don't know if I can go through that again."

"But you can't let one bad experience get you down. The Scott McCall I know is so brave that nothing would ever stand between him and what he wants!"

"You were _not_ a bad experience. Please don't say that. You were the best thing that happened to me."

"Aww, but now that can be him." Allison patted her best friend on the head.

"You really think he likes me?" Scott's eyes were full of doubt.

"Yes, I do. I'm sure he smelled awfully delighted for a patient. You just didn't want to notice it. You can ask him out and put your nose to better use this time."

"But what do I say?"

"I don't know. I'm an expert at turning people down, not the other way around." She shrugged before adding, "How about asking him to do something simple with you? Go for a run after work and howl at the moon together?"

"That's simple? It sounds so intimate."

"Then how about getting coffee? Everyone loves Heather's coffee."

"But her tables are tiny. It'll still be intimate."

"Then how about going out for a movie? It's just sitting next to each other with an armrest in the middle."

"I don't know... Isn't there anything less intimate?"

"Scott, you had _dinner _with my _family_. And then you had _sex_ with me _above_ my family with my _aunt's_ condom. Now _that's_ what you call intimate." Allison hoped that she had emphasized all the right parts. Who knew that she and Scott had been so intimate?

"But I want to take things slower this time! It has to be right. I don't think I could forgive myself if I put him through more pain." Scott remembered how Isaac had tensed when he had chatted away about his mother. They hadn't talked much, but he didn't think that Isaac had any family left. All he had ever talked about was how grateful he was for his Alpha's presence.

"Aww, you want to save him! That's so sweet. You've always had a thing for rescuing puppies." Allison scratched him behind the ears.

"Ah, I don't know about this. Maybe I should think about it some more." Scott sat up with a whine.

"But it's already been over a week. What if someone else calls him and asks to do intimate things with him? You're doing this now." Allison picked up the phone and dialed the number.

"Hello?" Isaac's voice flowed through the speaker.

"Hi, this is Scott McCall from the Beacon Hills Eye Clinic."

"Nurse McCall? Hi! What can I do for you?"

"Uh, yeah, there's something you could do for me, but I'm not sure if it's a good idea to... oww!"

"Nurse? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Scott rubbed his arm and gave Allison a hurt look. "But I have a feeling I won't be if I don't ask you something."

"Then ask away. What would you like to know?"

"Well, I'd like to know if maybe you'd like to… uh, would you be opposed to… um, sorry, the thing is, I…"

Allison sighed and held up a note: _Don't make me get my crossbow. The broom closet isn't that far away._

Scott shrieked, "would you like to look at brooms with me in the closet?!"

There was a deafening silence as all three of them tried to process what they had just heard. Allison was the first to recover. She lifted her hand to cut the call, certain that too much damage had been done.

"Yeah, I think I'd like that. It's a bit fast, but what the hale."

Now _two_ of them tried to process what they had just heard. Had that actually happened? Had he really said yes?

"Great! I'll be in touch! Thanks, man!" Scott ended the call before he could embarrass himself any further.

Doing his best to avoid Allison's glances, he quickly packed up his things. Why did Isaac want to see brooms? Didn't they all look the same? Was Isaac into Harry Potter? Did he expect to see a Nimbus 2014? Would Stiles know where to get one? And, what did he mean that it was a bit fast? Was looking at brooms together some sort of a werewolf ritual? Urgh, he had a lot to think about tonight.

* * *

**Author's note**:

Fun fact- I know that this is an eye doctor story, but how many times can you use the word 'eye' in one chapter? D:

(Answer: 51 times)


	3. The fire in your eyes

_Previously in 'Beacon Hills Eye Clinic'…_

_Peter hadn't bothered to hide his attraction for Dr. Stilinski even though the doctor had told him that the clinic had a policy against dating patients. And, when the mention of the cute, pale human had annoyed Derek, Cora had decided to check out the clinic. Meanwhile, Scott had asked Isaac out over the phone and had accidentally asked to look at brooms together in a closet. And, much to his surprise, Isaac had said yes._

* * *

"I'm sorry. You want me to get you a what?" Stiles blinked in confusion. This wasn't what he had expected when Scott hadn't left his office right after their daily morning meeting.

"A Nimbus 2014… But I guess 13 or 12 would do too." Scott squirmed in his chair as if he was asking his parents to buy him something incredibly expensive.

"Yeah… that wasn't really the point of my question." Stiles scratched his cheek. "Can I ask why you want it? It's not your birthday yet. And, it's not mine either."

Scott squirmed some more. "Remember how you said Allison and I could go out with former patients? If we really wanted to?"

"Oh my god, Isaac Lahey!" Stiles slapped his lap.

"How does everyone know that?!"

"Oh please, your paws were aching to touch his curls. It's amazing that you've lasted this long. You're the epitome of self-restraint!"

Scott refused to acknowledge the existence of those curls right now. He could only think about them in the privacy of his bedroom. "So are you going to get it for me?"

Stiles shrugged. "I could try, but isn't a mythical broom a little too much? You don't want to put that kind of pressure on him."

"You're right. I don't. But I kind of have to…"

"What do you mean? His favorite means of transportation is a broomstick?"

"No…" Scott really didn't want to tell him the whole story, but he did. He didn't want to mess things up with the cutie and he could use all the help that he could get.

"Wahahaha… Oh, buddy, trust me. He wouldn't bat an eyelid even if you put a 2024 in there! You've already got the broom." Stiles gave him a wink.

"I have? But all of the brooms belong to the clinic. Urgh, I'm so confused about this broom business." Scott ruffled his hair.

Stiles thought about clueing in his friend, but his adorable cluelessness was one of the things that made him Scott. He didn't want to ruin the chance of Lahey seeing this side of him.

"So you're okay with me going out with him?" Scott wanted to be sure.

"Yeah, totally. I already finished treating him and he's a werewolf. How many times could he possibly need my help? Plus, you're not a doctor so there will be fewer complications."

"Okay then. So can I use the closet after we close up? We're going out for dinner after that." It was a Saturday which meant that the clinic only opened until four.

"Sure. You can use the closet for the rest of the weekend. I never know with werewolves."

Scott shook his head as his friend burst into another fit of laughter. He thought about poking him in the arm to stop him, but decided against it. Endorphin could only be a true blessing when you were forced to be single.

* * *

Outside the clinic, Cora was checking her face in the hand mirror one last time. She knew that she was beautiful, but she was aiming for perfection. She was going to flirt the hale out with the doctor, and when the time was right, she would push him towards her brother.

She might've been apart from Derek for the past six years, but she was still his sister. She knew that he wouldn't act on his feelings unless someone messed with his prey. Peter was already involved in the hunt, but weren't love triangles boring? There was more fun in love triangular pyramids.

It wasn't like she was going to make the doctor fall in love with her. She would just get him hot and bothered before throwing him at Derek who was turning into a monk. Peter wouldn't be much of a problem in the end; she believed in the power of Derek's abs. As for herself, she wasn't as picky about her partners as her brother. She could find someone else in a heartbeat.

"Good morning! Welcome to the Beacon Hills Eye Clinic! We aim to please your eyes!" A cheerful voice made her frown as she walked into the clinic. Someone had had too much coffee already.

Cora yawned as she headed towards the perky nurse. She had woken up far too early since Derek had been pacing in front of her bedroom. She had tried to ignore him and go back to sleep, but it had been impossible to shut out the noise of the gears working in his head. It had obviously been a mistake to let him know that she was planning to visit the doctor today. It was flattering, though, to think that her Alpha considered her a threat.

"Hi. I'm here to see the cute, pale doctor, please."

"Oh, but both of our doctors are extremely cute and attractively pale," Scott explained proudly.

"The male one then. What's his name?"

"Dr. Stiles Stilinski."

Cora tilted her head at the strange name, but she understood that not everyone could have a pretty name like hers.

"Is he single?" She liked to get straight to the point.

"Yes, he is. But as you can see here, we have a policy that strongly discourages patients from pursuing our staff." Scott pointed at the board that was standing on one side of the desk.

"Has it ever been broken?"

"No. But many have tried." Allison stepped into the reception area with a warning smile. She didn't need super senses to smell trouble.

"I see." Cora checked her out from head to waist, eyes lingering on her breasts. The desk hid her legs from view, but Isaac had been right; she _was_ a gorgeous badass. "Does it also apply to the nurses? If so, what a shame."

Allison snorted as she sat down. She opened the drawer and reached for the Taser.

Scott hurried to put an empty form in front of the new patient. He didn't want any trouble. "Would you please fill this out for us? In the waiting room?"

"Sure. You got a pen?"

Allison jumped up and stabbed the air with her sharpest pencil. The patient dodged it as expected, but it still made her feel better. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something in the werewolf that greatly bothered her.

"That was cute." Cora took the pencil and carved a small heart into it with her pinkie claw. Then she turned around and headed to the waiting room, clacking her boots.

* * *

"Dr. Stilinski! Miss Hale is here!"

Stiles gasped as he finished writing some notes in a chart. This couldn't be happening. "Are you serious? Another Hale? And, it's a Miss this time?"

"Yes, Miss Cora Hale."

"But I thought Derek said most of his family was dead! How many survived the fire? And, why do they all have eye problems? More importantly, why are they all coming to _me_? Don't they know that Greenberg's still practicing at the Memorial Hospital?" Stiles moaned as he chewed the end of his pen.

"I feel for you, doc. I really do. But we can't turn them away."

"Let me guess. She's also a hottie and wears a killer leather jacket."

Scott paused before speaking in his softest voice, "well, yeah. I'm sending her in, Stiles. Good luck."

Stiles didn't think that Scott had wished him luck hard enough. He didn't have much time to brace himself for the oncoming cleavage. As soon as the door opened, Cora walked straight up to him and dropped her chart in his lap.

Stiles' eyes shot up to her face. He knew that she had bent forward with dirty intentions, but he wasn't going to molest a patient with his eyes.

"Why are you looking at my eyes, doctor? The goods are down here." Cora pointed at her white shirt.

"Um, usually they say it the other way around…" Stiles gulped. "And, don't forget that I'm an eye doctor! I look at eyes!"

"Why not look at both? I'm offering." Cora spun the doctor's chair and put her hands on each of the armrests.

"Okay! Let's take a look at your _chart_, shall we?" Stiles hid behind the chart and took a deep breath. The panic button was right under his desk, but he'd like to think that he could handle this on his own.

"Suit yourself." Cora smiled as she took a seat. "I think you'll like my handwriting. It's easy on the eyes, isn't it?"

"Yes! It's very nice!" Stiles was relieved that they were talking about handwriting.

"And all _firm_ and _round_…" Cora took off her jacket and adjusted her shirt.

Stiles blushed and put the chart closer to his face. He didn't mind getting cross-eyed. "So you have trouble with moonlight... after being captured by the Alpha pack for three months?"

"Yeah, I wasn't allowed to see the moonlight for a long time. And, now it's too bright that I need my Ray Bans," Cora had never had too much trouble lying. She was sure that Peter's eyes were fine too.

"Okay, you should keep those shades on at night until you feel better. And, I'll prescribe you some eye drops to help with the sensitivity. How do you do with sunlight and artificial light?"

"All right, I guess."

"Excellent. I'd like to run a test on your retina just to be sure. Nurse McCall will help you outside."

"Actually, could I get the other nurse instead?"

"Oh, you're not comfortable around Nurse McCall?" Stiles wondered if Scott's eyes had wandered.

"I'm_ too_ comfortable around him if you know what I mean. It's a clinic. I want a hot, bad nurse who can whip me up." Cora smacked her lips as she got up.

"Ookay, let's send you to Nurse Argent then." Stiles tried his best not to think about some hot patient on nurse action that involved a whip. Allison was a dear friend and deserved his utmost respect.

"Oh, and one last thing." Cora turned her head in front of the door. "I sometimes have trouble seeing my shoelaces." She bent her waist and fixed her bootlaces. There was a reason why she had worn such tight jeans.

'Oh shit…' Stiles completely forgot how to breathe. The Hales were going to be the death of him. He was sure of it. They were brutal, thorough, and patient. It was only a matter of which one would get to him first.

* * *

"Allison! Allison!" Stiles ran out of his office and headed straight to the reception desk. He spotted a couple of Lydia's patients in the waiting room, but thankfully they were both regulars. They had come here often enough to know about his panic attacks.

Allison looked up from where she had been sharpening her pencils. "What's wrong, doctor?"

"No, this isn't Dr. Stilinski time. This is Stiles time. I need your help."

Allison let Stiles drag her into the broom closet before asking again, "So what's wrong?"

"They're coming for me!" Stiles yelled in terror.

"Who?"

"Who do you think? The Hales!" Stiles' arms flailed wildly.

"I don't understand. Cora Hale just left, looking pleased. What do you mean they're coming for you? They want to sue you?"

"Pfft, I wish! That kind of problem could go away with an expensive lawyer! But no lawyer's going to save me from this tantalizing agony! They're taking turns eating me with their eyes, and I keep dying a willing prey in my head! Oh god, Allison, you have to help me."

Allison frowned at the doctor who was now fanning himself on the floor. "So you want me to give them a warning? They'll catch it, but I can shoot a poisoned arrow to send a message."

Stiles looked up, horrified. "Why would you want to do that? No, I don't want you to shoot _anything_ at those beautiful creatures."

"Then what about using an ultrasonic emitter? Scott can wear earplugs."

"No, Allison! I just want you to teach me how to turn them down, with words!"

"With words? But I give out tips pretty often. I must've given out plenty by now."

"I know. But I need special ones! And, to be honest, your tip-giving time is my daydreaming time. I just didn't need to turn down anyone this badly, sorry."

"Oh…" Allison frowned even more. Stiles would have to pay her back with eye cream. "I'm happy to help, Stiles, but I don't get what's different this time. I'm sure the Hales will give up too eventually."

"Allison…" Stiles started with a sigh. "If you honestly can't see what's different this time, I need to run a few tests on you. You're losing your eyesight! I mean did you_ see _Cora Hale? You know I worship Lydia, but she's like a werewolf goddess or something. Man, they didn't teach me enough words at school to describe such a beauty."

"Haha, how _incongruous_ to hear you say that." Allison wondered if Scott could hear her. "And, yes, she's quite attractive even though she almost got herself Tasered for hitting on me."

"Wait, she hit on you? You mean during the test?"

"No, before you saw her. She was pretty shameless." Allison blushed a little at the memory of Cora's fiery eyes.

"I see." Stiles rubbed his face with a crooked grin. A nice, little idea was forming inside his head. "Well, this emergency closet meeting has been fruitful. Thanks, Allison, you've been a great help."

"I have? But I haven't given you any tips yet."

"But you gave me inspiration! That's much better than a few tips. Thanks." Stiles got up and gave her a hug before going back to his office. He now had a game plan.

* * *

The broom closet saw another strange meeting a few hours later. Scott felt stupid and rude as he led his guest into a broom closet of all places. He had booked a lovely restaurant with large tables that wouldn't make it feel too intimate, but this part of the date was ridiculous.

"Wow, what a neat closet," Isaac commented. He thought that it was only polite to say something nice about the place that he had been invited to.

"Thanks. Allison takes good care of it."

"It certainly looks like it." Isaac smiled and closed the door. He couldn't wait to have fun with the brooms.

"You know, I'm really glad you didn't turn me down." Scott gave him a smile of his own.

"I'm glad you asked. I was worried you were never going to. There's that ethical policy and all."

"Yeah. If I didn't like you this much, I probably would've beaten the temptation."

"Aww, I'm flattered." Isaac put his hands on Scott's waist and kissed his forehead.

"Whoa, that was fast!" Scott liked the kiss, but fast was still fast.

"Not as fast as what we're about to do." Isaac grinned.

"Looking at brooms…?"

"More like_ touching_ the brooms." Isaac leaned in for a kiss.

"What are you doing?" Scott jumped back.

"Oh, I just thought it would be less awkward if we kissed first." Isaac scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh… I'm sorry. The thing is, we don't have much time left until our reservation. So I don't mean to rush you, but can we just get to the brooms? I didn't think we'd be staying here for long." Scott could smell Isaac's arousal and he wanted to leave the closet as a gentleman. There was only so much self-control that he could muster around a hot guy in a coat and a scarf.

"Uh, sure. Why not. After all, that's the main event."

"Good." Scott faced the brooms and waited, breathing through his mouth. Isaac would know what to do. But instead of the sound of Isaac walking up to the brooms, he heard a zipper going down.

"What are you doing?!" He looked down at Isaac's crotch in horror.

"Um, getting my broom out?" Isaac was starting to get worried. He had thought that he knew what he was doing, but Scott kept asking him.

"Oh my god…" Scott wanted to _die_. Now he understood why Stiles hadn't stopped laughing. When he had done a Google search last night, nobody had told him that the word 'broom' stood for anything. This was all going horribly wrong. He had wanted to take things slower this time, but things had never been going so fast.

By the time he had slightly recovered, one of the brooms was out of the closet and his misled guest was sniffing at his hair. "Are we all right? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's my fault." Scott still wanted to die, but he would die a dependable host.

"What can I do to make things better?" Isaac worked on unzipping Scott's pants.

Scott wanted to stop him. He really did. But Isaac's fingers were quick and felt far too great on his skin. There was no going back now.

"Isaac…" Scott clutched at Isaac's shoulders and whined into his neck. He was glad that he was doing this with a werewolf. He could worry a little less about leaving bruises on his date and focus a little more on looking at the brooms rubbing against each other. He had never been involved in any broom-to-broom activity, but it looked like it wasn't the first time for Isaac.

"This is good. I think you're feeling better." Isaac tightened his grips on Scott's waist and the brooms.

"You think? What gave it away?" Scott had meant it to sound sarcastic (damn it, Stiles), but it only sounded desperate in his ears. It turned out that Isaac's long fingers were useful for this type of activity, and he could think of another activity that could benefit from long fingers.

"Wow, what just happened?" Isaac asked in awe as waves of arousal hit his nose.

Instead of answering, Scott put his hands in Isaac's curls and pulled him down. He needed a kiss.

Isaac moved his hand faster as he purred into Scott's mouth. Nothing smelled wrong anymore. Scott was thrusting into his hand and the friction between them was at its best. The end was nearing, so he kissed his date harder. This was a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

"Arooooo!"

Two sets of howls shook the closet as the werewolves slid to the floor. Scott rested his head on his knees as he tried to decide if he had liked the turn of events. So much for trying _not_ to be intimate.

"So…" Isaac moved closer to Scott and nuzzled his ear. "Do I get to ride your broomstick next time? Or would you rather _sweep _me with your broom? Or do you want _me_ to sweep you with my broom?"

"God, Isaac… Enough with the brooms!" Yeah, Scott still wanted to die. But before Isaac could think that he had done something wrong again, he swept him off his feet with an intimate kiss.

* * *

**Author's note**:

I don't think I'll be able to look at brooms for a while *headdesk*


	4. The one that meets your eye

_Previously in 'Beacon Hills Eye Clinic'…_

_Cora had managed to mess with both Stiles and Allison's minds in one visit to the clinic. Scott had finally found out what the word 'broom' stood for and had enjoyed the consequences. While things had gone far too fast for his liking, he had given Isaac an intimate kiss to reassure him that everything was fine._

* * *

There was nothing that screamed peaceful morning more than the sound of a pencil sharpener working diligently. It was a familiar sound to Allison whose mother had sharpened pencils each morning before leaving to teach. Allison usually treated her pencils equally, but today she couldn't resist putting more pressure on one of them. She glanced at the small heart that was carved near the bottom. The heart was for her, but she couldn't decide if she liked it or not.

Cora Hale had crossed her mind several times over the weekend. She didn't know why she had kept thinking about her. Cora was a Hale; the niece of Peter Hale who had killed her aunt. It was Kate who had started the war so she couldn't really blame Peter, but it still hurt to think about the things that had gone down between the families. So many lives had been lost and the survivors had suffered from guilt and sorrow. While she didn't mind the Hales coming to the clinic, she wanted to treat them like any other patients.

Allison sighed as she thought about her initial reaction to Cora. Something had terribly bothered her when she had first seen her. She hadn't known that the woman was a Hale until she had gotten the chart back and yet, she had tried to stab her with a pencil. She had been lucky that neither of the doctors had seen it. She shouldn't have reacted with violence when the patient hadn't really done anything. Perhaps her hunter instinct had immediately recognized a dangerous werewolf? Still, there was no excuse for her actions when she wasn't a hunter anymore and she owed Cora an apology. A fruit basket should do.

There was actually one more thing that troubled her. Even after finding out the patient's name, she had admitted to Stiles that Cora was attractive. Where had that come from? Wasn't she into nice people? She had loved Scott who had to be the nicest werewolf ever. Was it the badass attitude? Did she miss the action and conflict?

Allison put down the pencil with determination. It didn't matter even if she found Cora attractive. She had no intention of getting involved with a patient who happened to be a Hale. She also had no illusions of how things would play out. She had gone to a nurse school that was next to a med school. People might sleep with the nurses, but they always ended up with the doctors. Given Stiles' interest in her, she wouldn't stand a chance.

"Hey, you're here early." Scott put down the helmet and gave her a big grin.

"Yeah, I felt like getting an early start." Allison smiled back.

"You look distracted. Is this about Cora Hale?"

Allison gave him a questioning glance and Scott pointed at the pencil in front of her.

"Oh, I just finished sharpening it."

"How did she even do that?" Scott looked at the carved heart and then at his claws.

"She obviously sharpens her claws. I can respect that in a person." Allison looked at her perfectly sharpened pencils with pride.

"It looks like I might not be the only one who'll have to bend the rules." Scott laughed.

"I think I'm offended."

"I think she liked it when you were offended." Scott winked.

"I don't care if she liked it or not."

Scott knew about the dark history between the Argents and the Hales, but he liked to think that all the bad blood was a thing of the past. "Hey, remember how you said I could still talk to you even when we're not together anymore? I want you to know it goes both ways."

Allison nodded. "Thanks, Scott. That means a lot. But I hope we'll never have to talk about this."

"Then I hope so too. Whatever you want," Scott said sincerely.

Allison poked at his arm with the eraser on the pencil. "Remind me why I broke up with you?"

"Mm, let's see… You got tired of my gigantic biceps, jaw-dropping abs, and my enormous, superhuman, surreal…"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Allison burst into giggles. Her heart felt much lighter now. Scott was the best ex-boyfriend ever.

* * *

Scott was also the best nurse ever when it came to showing enthusiasm. "Dr. Stilinski! Mr…"

"Yeah, I know. Mr. Hale is here." Stiles sighed into the intercom. Derek Hale had made an appointment this time. "What did I ever do to them, Scott? Why are they attacking me with their perfect existence? One knows how to stare, another one knows how to talk, and the other one knows how to smile."

"Hmm, this must be the stare-y one then. Get ready, Stiles. He's done drinking the clean water we provide," Scott reported happily.

"I bet he drank it disgustingly sexily, staring down at the water cooler. Oh my god, I think I want to be the water cooler." Stiles wanted to go on about how he would also like to be the paper cup, but he heard the door open.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Hale. I was hoping you wouldn't come back." Stiles smiled in apology.

"Am I not welcome here?" Derek sat down anyway.

"Of course you are! I just meant I hoped your infrared would be fixed, that's all." Stiles wondered if he would have to get that expensive lawyer after all.

"It's fixed. I'm here for something else though."

"Really? Another battle with some evil force?" Stiles wondered if it would be safer to move their practice to the nearest town. He could always visit his father during the weekend.

"No. More like friendly fire. I train werewolves for a living and one of them punched me in the eye," Derek lied through his teeth. It was a relief that the doctor wasn't a werewolf.

"Ouch, sorry to hear that. What are the symptoms? Is there pain? Blurriness? Or are you just here to make sure everything's okay?"

"I'm just here for a checkup. It's the left eye." Derek didn't want to overdo it and end up with some controversial treatment.

"Okay. Put your chin on the machine, please."

"Is there any way not to involve this machine? I'm not a big fan of it." Derek didn't want to cause trouble, but he felt stupid around big machines.

"Ah, then let me do it another way." Stiles picked up a hand-held ophthalmoscope. "But you'll have to excuse me for being all up in your space. Would that be all right?"

Hale yeah, that was more than all right, but Derek simply gave him a nod.

"Great. Let's see…" Stiles wheeled his chair in front of Derek's and held up his tool.

Derek resisted the urge to close his eyes. The point here was to keep his eyes open, but the doctor was so close. He breathed through his nose to inhale the inviting scent. As a doctor, he smelled mostly of sanitizer but underneath it, there were traces of peach, honey, and sun tree. He wanted a lick or a bite, but he knew his manners. Then out of nowhere, jealousy shot through him from head to toe. How many other werewolves would've been tempted like this?

"Whoa, no need for the Alpha eyes. Is everything okay?" Stiles looked at his patient with worry.

"Sorry. It's been a stressful day." Derek went back to his human eyes.

"It's only nine in the morning…"

Derek showed off the Hale glare, but Stiles was having none of it. "No. No glaring. You want to put less pressure on your eyes. And, I treat werewolves on a weekly basis, Mr. Hale. Glaring doesn't do anything to me unless it comes from my partner. Now let's get back to your eye."

Derek sat there, feeling a little scolded. The doctor reminded him of Laura who had always looked out for him but had scolded him every once in a while.

"Okay, what's with the sad eyes now?" Stiles put down the ophthalmoscope again. "Please don't be sad. This is a happy clinic! We aim to_ please _your eyes if you haven't checked out our motto yet. We have lollipops if you want. Would that make you feel better?"

"I'm not a child." Derek sulked. He couldn't help but feel like a child though.

"Oh, but they're big! Nurse McCall loves them! They're _adult_ lollipops." Stiles was reminded of the 'broom' incident and died cackling. Of course Scott would love big adult lollipops.

Derek sat back and folded his arms as the doctor kept dying. It should've been annoying, but he couldn't find it in himself to stop him. The doctor's laughter seemed infectious as the corners of his mouth started to twitch. He wondered if this was what they called 'laughter therapy'. After all, the doctor had treated him with unorthodox methods last week.

"Ahem, sorry about that." Stiles felt awkward as he cleared his throat. At least, the patient didn't look sad anymore. "Well, I'm happy to tell you there's nothing wrong with your eye. But you were worried enough to come down here, so I urge you to eat and sleep well for the next few days."

Derek frowned as he realized that he should've come up with a condition that guaranteed him another trip to the clinic. "One more thing. My eyes get a bit bloodshot these days."

"It's probably the stress you mentioned. Eat and sleep well."

"They also feel strained around the corners."

"Eat and sleep well."

"Frequent dryness?"

"You're a werewolf, same orders. Anything else?"

Derek could tell that the doctor saw through his lies. Feeling like a scolded child again, he shook his head and left the office. He needed a better strategy, but that kind of thing had never been his forte.

* * *

Derek groaned as he got closer to the loft. The man whose forte was coming up with strategies seemed to be inside. He wished that he could pick his uncle's brains like the bad old times, but Peter would purposefully give him the most terrible ideas. He didn't even know why he cared about the doctor. He knew how to respect the rules unlike the rest of his pack and he didn't think that the doctor would like him back. He owned a mirror so he was aware of his looks, but why would anyone want to handle all the darkness inside him?

The sight that greeted him when he opened the door was alarming enough to make him forget about his misery. Cora and Peter were chatting on the couch, eating fruit out of a fruit basket. In any other family, it would've been a lovely scene; a niece and an uncle sharing healthy fruit on a beautiful winter morning. But the Hales never got something nice like a fruit basket.

Derek sprinted to the couch before Cora could take another bite of her apple. He couldn't lose her again.

"Derek!" Cora yelped, startled at her brother's behavior. He frantically sniffed various parts of the apple before moving on to the rest of the fruit.

It was Derek's turn to yelp when a hand came across the side of his head.

"What are you? A rabid dog? Get your nose out of the basket." Peter frowned until something caught his eyes. "Wait a second. Is that a new jacket I'm seeing? Or do I need to get my eyes checked?"

Derek sighed at the amusement in Peter's voice. Why couldn't there be mountain ash in Peter's banana? "It's none of your business." He took off his jacket and hung it up near the door.

"But it is. As the only member of this pack that knows anything about fashion, I must say you chose well. But you already have several leather jackets, so I wonder if this wasn't you trying to impress the good doctor."

"It's _still _none of your business."

"But again, it _is_ my business since I'm in the treasure hunt as well." Peter sent him a sly smile. "The good news is, at least you don't need a new bed. It's still brand new unlike mine."

"Shut up or I'm going to get another _leather_ jacket out of you." Derek sat down and grabbed a peach.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure the doctor would respond to such smooth talking. This is going way too easy for me."

Cora rolled her eyes as she finished her apple. "Don't count me out just yet. He couldn't take his pretty eyes off me, and I mean _all_ of me. And, I happen to communicate with people better than Derek."

Peter laughed. "My dear niece, you should know that's not much of a compliment. _Everyone_ communicates better than Derek. Even dogs."

"I'm starting to feel the urge to get that new leather jacket." Derek flexed his biceps.

"Again with those meaningless, violent threats." Peter clicked his tongue.

"Don't you have any work to do? Or is the sommelier business not going so well?" Derek missed Isaac who often acted as the buffer of the pack. It was good that he got more clients though.

"I'm not sure if you're familiar with this era, Derek, but we have something called the Internet. I suppose you wouldn't know. You've never been good with electronic equipment. Remember how you used to be scared of the microwave?"

As Derek stood up with his claws out, Cora threw herself on her brother's back. "Derek! Can help me move my bed upstairs?"

"What's wrong with your bed?" Derek hiked her up even though he wished that she wouldn't act like a kid.

"It's winter. I don't want it to face the window."

"Fine."

Unable to say no to his little sister even when she could do it alone, Derek glared at Peter and headed to the stairs. He wanted to help her and get some time to think in his room. He needed another way into the clinic. He needed information. But where could he possibly find out what the doctor liked?

* * *

"Eh, I don't know how to say this." Isaac rubbed his chin as he checked his phone.

"You don't like the coffee?" Scott was worried. He was hoping that Isaac would enjoy Heather's coffee.

"The coffee's fine. But the sanity of my pack isn't." Isaac was torn. Derek wasn't the only one who had asked him to pry information out of Scott. Peter had asked the same thing yesterday when they had been shopping for V-neck sweaters.

"What's up with your pack?" Scott was curious. He had never been part of a pack. He had been bitten by a lone Alpha who had been hunted down shortly after by the Argents. Stiles and Allison had helped him embrace his new self, but he had never looked for a pack.

"I'll be straight with you." Isaac scratched the tip of his nose. "They're all over Dr. Stilinski and want to know what makes him tick."

Scott wanted to tell him that he shouldn't give out such private information, but then he remembered how Stiles hadn't told him about the significance of the 'broom'. "Leather. Definitely leather."

"Anything else?" Isaac sent a text to both Derek and Peter. While his loyalty lay with his Alpha, Peter was still part of the pack.

"Ah, I think I talked too much already. Sorry." Scott smiled. He didn't want to send his best friend into his mother's ER.

"Nah, I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't mean to put you in a tight spot." Isaac reached out for Scott's hand on the table. "Your break's almost over. Let's talk about something fun now."

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could do something later."

"Sounds great. What do you have in mind?" Isaac drew circles with his thumb on Scott's wrist.

"How about a ride on my bike? Before it gets too cold. We can ride all the way to the woods! The weather's clear today, so it's going to be beautiful."

"Oh, a bike…" Isaac tried to pull his hand back, but Scott was quick to catch it.

"You don't like bikes? I swear I'll keep you safe."

Isaac hesitated. He didn't want to kill the mood.

"Hey, we can do something else instead. But it's okay to tell me if you're up for it." Scott squeezed the trembling hand. He wished that he could take away more than physical pain.

Isaac looked into Scott's eyes for a while. "I was once chased by two Alphas. I was on a bike with this girl who saved my life, but she didn't make it." He didn't think that he would ever get rid of the guilt.

"I'm so sorry." Scott lifted Isaac's hand and kissed it. That was one of the main reasons why he hadn't joined a pack. He could do without any of the werewolf drama. "How about we take my mom's car then? I can borrow it."

"It's okay. That was a long time ago. I think I'd like it if you helped me turn it into a fond memory. Just remember that I might hold on a little too tight." Isaac grinned despite the lingering sadness in his eyes.

Scott nodded as his heart swelled with delight at the amount of trust that Isaac was putting in him. They still knew so little about each other, but he liked where they were headed. "You're very strong, you know that?"

Isaac shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Never really felt that way."

"You are. You seem to have overcome all kinds of tragedy and yet, there's still life in you."

Isaac gave him a small smile. "That's awfully nice of you, but you're the ideal werewolf. I've seen you take away patients' pain. I've only used my claws to hurt people."

"But now you don't! You cut hair with them."

"Yeah, but it's still very new."

"Well, I eagerly look forward to the day you cut mine." Scott leaned forward and kissed his date on the nose. He could get used to sweet coffee breaks like this.

* * *

**Author's note**:

Okay, no lollipops for me either. I should really stop with these euphemisms XD


	5. For your eyes only

_Previously in 'Beacon Hills Eye Clinic'…_

_Allison had decided to stop thinking about Cora and had sent her a fruit basket to apologize for having tried to stab her with a pencil. Both Derek and Peter had asked Isaac to pry information out of Scott about Dr. Stilinski. As revenge for not telling him about the 'broom', Scott had told Isaac that Stiles was into leather. Then he had hoped that he would turn Isaac's bad memories about motorcycles into better ones._

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me." Stiles dropped his head on the wheel, feeling defeated. It was the kind of day when nothing seemed to go his way. Stiles fished his phone out of his coat pocket and called his insurance company; his Jeep had broken down in the middle of the road. He also called Lydia to tell her that he might be late and that they should start their morning meeting without him.

As he waited for the tow truck, Stiles thought about his awful morning. He had slept through his first three alarms, had used the conditioner first, and had almost slipped in the bathroom. If that wasn't bad enough, his Tuesday boxers had still been wet and since he hadn't had enough time, he had skipped the playtime with Stiles Jr. And, to top things off, he had caught his father stuffing his mouth with banana chips and something that looked disgustingly greasy. He was getting used to patients who didn't like following orders, but his father was a whole different animal.

Stiles got out of the car and looked up at the cloudy sky. It was cold, but he could use some fresh air. He hoped that the Jeep was still fixable. The two of them went far back and he was too attached to it to get a new car.

"Dr. Stilinski?"

Stiles looked to his left. It was Cora Hale. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Well, it looks like I'm going to be your hero, so I feel good." Cora rolled up her window and got out of her Kia.

"Ah, that's very generous of you, but the tow truck's on its way." Stiles gave her a smile.

"That's great. But you're still blocking half of the road and who knows when it'll get here?"

Stiles' jaw dropped as Cora casually pushed his Jeep to the side of the road. Sometimes he forgot just how powerful werewolves were.

"There you go." Cora brushed off her hands.

"Thanks! I shouldn't have let a lady do that."

"It's okay. I offered." Cora smiled. "And, since I'm so generous, let me also give you a ride."

"Oh, that's totally unnecessary. I can take a cab and I already called in late."

"It's no bother. I have some time to kill anyway. Leave a note on the window and they'll take care of it." Cora didn't wait for an answer and got back in the car.

Stiles didn't want to complicate matters, but he didn't want to be rude either. Cora hadn't flirted with him, so he had no reason to turn down her kindness.

Cora grinned as the doctor got in her car. What a lovely morning this was. She used her werewolf speed to lean over and fasten his seatbelt. If she tilted her head to make her hair fall closer to his face, she was just seizing an opportunity.

"Thank you…" Stiles breathed in the heady scent of her shampoo. It reminded him of his earlier mistake, but he tried to focus on this new memory.

"You're welcome." Cora put on her own seatbelt and started the car. Her gym was on the other side of the town, but she had left home early. The loft had been empty and she hadn't had anyone to mess with. "So tell me why you still smell like a pouty kitten? Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Bah, sorry you had to smell that. It's been a rough morning." Unable to resist the chance, Stiles told her all about it. Talking was his thing and he found that Cora was better than any of his colleagues when it came to enthusiastic reaction.

"You don't say!" Cora gasped in horror. Theatrics didn't really suit her, but the doctor got so excited whenever she did that. It was nice to have a babbling cutie next to her. It was much better than lame music or boring silence that usually filled her car. She wondered if she couldn't keep him all to herself. Did she have to play the good, little sister? Nobody had asked her to and the doctor hadn't seen Derek's abs yet. Perhaps she could reach out first.

"Uh, I don't mean to question your judgment, but is this the shortest way to the clinic?" Stiles looked out the window with a frown.

"It isn't," Cora did her best to sound creepy. "But don't worry. If you cooperate, I'll let you out of this car in one piece."

She laughed when the doctor's heart skipped a beat. He had been willing to wait for the truck. She could drop him off after having a little more fun.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Stiles stumbled into the clinic with lipstick on his cheek. He should feel better about his morning, but he didn't allow himself to do that. Getting a smack from a patient wasn't something to be happy about when he had liked it too much.

"Stiles, over here." Lydia had her arms folded in front of the reception desk.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. What's up?" Stiles saw his best friend resting his chin on his hand and drooling all over it. "What happened to him?"

Lydia held up her flashlight and checked Scott's pupils. "He's gone. One moment, he was telling me about his date last night. Then the next, he lost control of his mouth and now it got to his brain. Soon he's going to drool all over the desk."

Sure enough, Scott's arm gave out and his chin hit the desk. Lydia and Stiles winced, but Scott didn't stop grinning.

"My poor friend." Stiles pretended to wipe away a fake tear as he rubbed the lipstick off his cheek. He didn't want Lydia to worry.

"Hmm, perhaps we should skip our morning meeting. There's not enough time to get him out of his trance." Lydia pulled out a Kleenex and wiped Scott's chin.

"Okay. But tell me, did he get to the juicy bits? Or he didn't make it that far?" Stiles hoped that it was the former. If he didn't get to date, he'd like to imagine it through other people's memories.

"Well, apparently Lahey wasn't holding on tightly enough, so he sped up the bike. What a typical male behavior. But he couldn't get enough of the thrill, so he kept pushing it and they had reached the woods earlier than he had expected."

"And…?"

Lydia shrugged. "I don't know. Then his mouth started secreting amylase and no more words came out. And, who knows what werewolves do in the woods? This might be a blessing in disguise."

Stiles was torn. Was Lydia right or not? He thought about Cora driving him to the woods. There would be trees, dirt, and nobody to hear him scream. It was both strangely exciting and horribly terrifying.

"Honey, stop thinking about the woods and get ready. We have a clinic to run."

As Lydia headed to her office, Stiles patted Scott on the cheek and went into his. He needed to get some smelling salt and revive his nurse.

* * *

"Uh, doctor…?"

Stiles sat up straight. Why was Scott hesitating? He had come out of the trance an hour ago and there hadn't been any alarming patients on his list. "What is it, buddy? You're not feeling well?"

"I'm actually worried about _you_, Stiles. You don't have a fragile heart, right?"

"Why do you ask? Is there a werewolf holding an eye?"

"No… But there are Hales, dressed in leather."

"What do you mean the _Hales_? There's more than one?"

"Yeah, it's the uncle and the nephew. And, Stiles, I'm so sorry about the leather…"

"Why are you sorry?"

"I'll explain later, but I thought they'd come one by one!"

"Meh, if today's any indication, challenges don't come to me one by one. They come down on me like a freaking avalanche!"

"Ah, I wish I could help, but which one do you want to see first? They're killing each other with werewolf eyes."

"Eh, those werewolf testosterones." Stiles tapped his fingers against his desk. He had thought that he had sent Derek away for good, but he had obviously been wrong. He suspected that Peter wasn't here for a real problem either. The test results had come back negative last week.

"Stiles? I think some of the other patients are starting to get worried."

"Gah, what the heck. Send in both." Stiles felt like he had just peed and pooped in his pants at the same time.

"Okay. Remember you have a panic button. You press it and I'll be through your door in no time."

"Thanks, Scott. Tell me one thing though. How much leather are we talking about?" Stiles thought about all the leather jackets that had graced his office.

"Hmm, how do I say this… Oh! Remember the lunar eclipse edition of 'Monthly Howl'?"

"Of course I do! There are some things that just burn into your retina."

"Well, get your retina ready then. It's that much leather."

"Nnngh…" Stiles couldn't help the sound of anticipation. He had to keep in mind that he wasn't allowed to touch. With female patients, he tried not to even look, but he was less cautious when the patients were male. Guys seemed to enjoy the ego boost too much to be offended.

Stiles took deep breaths. He could do this. He was the son of a courageous sheriff. He also treated strong and dangerous werewolves like injured puppies. What could fine leather possibly do to him?

The door flew open and the Hales strutted into the office. These were the times when Stiles was mesmerized by the human eye; he saw everything in slow motion and in great detail. While he wished that his eyes could each focus on a Hale, he was relieved that Cora hadn't joined this beautiful disaster. A foursome would've been overkill.

Peter had a fancy grey leather coat over a light blue sweater. His package was showcased in black jeans that looked gigantic under the silver leather belt. His look was completed with a leather necklace and black leather gloves.

"Oh my god…" Stiles gulped. He pictured those gloved hands slowly climbing up his legs to the very top of his thighs. He could feel goose bumps all over his legs.

Meanwhile, Derek was in a simple black leather jacket, zipped almost all the way up. But was that a leather collar around his neck? It was thin and barely visible over the top of the jacket, but a collar was a collar. His long legs were encased in tight black leather pants and Stiles wondered if Derek could've worn something underneath.

Stiles hurried to button up his gown. Even though he felt like shucking his clothes for various reasons, he didn't want his patients to smell his arousal.

"I hope I get your attention first, doctor." Peter grabbed a seat and took off his gloves. "You see, my uncivilized nephew here has stalked me since I left my place."

"Ignore him, doc. He thinks I don't have anything better to do." Derek sat on the other chair and zipped down his jacket.

"You _don't_ have anything better to do. That's why your Camaro was sitting in my parking lot." Peter took off his coat to reveal his leather bracelets.

"That wasn't mine." Derek slipped off his jacket.

"Don't even try to deny it. I saw the license plate!" Peter rolled up his sleeves. "In fact, looking at what you're wearing, I'd say you even peeked inside my room!"

Derek rolled his eyes as hard as he could. Maybe he could get treated for this. "How does that even work? I stack up different types of clothes in my car and wait for you to change? And, do you really think I'd watch you get dressed and risk myself going blind?"

"Excuse you. Very few people get that honor."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought your bed never stayed empty." Derek puffed out his chest that was trapped in a grey wife beater. He hoped that the holes looked fashionable.

Stiles didn't care what they were arguing about. As far as he was concerned, his ears were feasting on the Hale voices and his eyes were getting blessed by the strip show. He just hoped that they would go all the way. It wasn't his fault if his patients preferred getting treated in the nude.

"Tell me, doctor. Do you do house calls?" Peter pulled off his sweater. Rage made him hot. "These kinds of unpleasant situations could be avoided with house calls."

"Sorry, no house calls." Stiles only blinked when it was absolutely necessary. He didn't want to miss a second of this torture in disguise. For now, he couldn't decide if he was disappointed that a white short-sleeved shirt was hiding Peter's chest or if he was glad that he could still breathe a little. Peter's V-neck had the deepest neckline that he had ever seen, and that was including Mahealani's shirts.

"Don't you have a policy against people who only show up to waste your time?" Derek looked at the doctor and then pointedly at his uncle.

"Excuse you again. I have a legitimate reason to be here. If you've never been dead, you don't get to talk about the symptoms. I think you're the one who's here with a fake problem." Peter fisted his shirt.

"I don't care what you think." Derek adjusted his collar, the product of his first Google search. Was this really the most impressive leather item ever?

"If you have nothing to hide, why don't you tell us the purpose of your visit?" Peter gave his nephew a suspicious look.

"I need the number for a therapist." Derek fingered his holes.

"Huh, you're not lying." Peter rubbed his handsome chin. "Maybe there's still hope for you, Derek. I'm pleased you finally admit you have a problem."

"At least I'm not dead inside. Wait, I'm not dead on the outside either." Derek flexed his triceps.

"If you must know, death has actually worked to my favor. My skin has never been more fabulous." Peter caressed his flawless neck.

"Then why don't you stay in front of the mirror all day? I'm leaving after I get that number. Doctor?" Derek looked at the mess sprawled on the chair. "Doctor…?"

"Huh…?" Stiles wiped the drool off his chin with the back of his hand. Then he opened the drawer and helped himself with a smelling salt capsule. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"That therapist you mentioned the other day. Can I have her number, please?"

"Oh, yes! Miss Morell. Let me write it down for you." Stiles typed in a name on the computer while the Hales engaged in a staring match.

"I'll let her know that I sent you. You'll be in good hands." Stiles wrote down the information with a trembling hand. He wondered if he had to cancel his subscription to 'Monthly Howl'. Stiles Jr. already had enough material to last a whole year.

"Oh, shit…" He dropped the piece of paper and bent down to pick it up. That was when he spotted two pairs of leather boots. "Heep!"

The werewolves pricked up their ears. They had heard the doctor breathe in, but had he also breathed out? Derek was quick to look under the desk and Stiles panicked when their eyes met. He tried to sit up and banged his head on the underside of the desk. "Owww!"

Stiles sat erect and put his head in his hands. Everything happened so fast. Someone pulled the front of his hair and put a hand on the back of his neck. But the hand was gone after he heard the door get yanked open. Then a painful sound filled the office, leaving a sick feeling in his guts.

Nobody spoke a word. Peter had his jaw in his hand and was looking at Scott as if he had insulted his high fashion. Scott was glaring daggers at him while Derek checked everyone's face. Then there was Stiles who figured that he should get his lawyer's number since he had already brought up his contact list.

"Ahahaha…" It was Derek who broke the silence. _This _was a true laughter therapy. "Hahahaha!"

Stiles looked at Derek in awe. He had a very nice laugh. Then he remembered that his nurse had just punched a patient. The avalanche had done its worst. "Scott, buddy, he was trying to take away my pain."

"But you pressed the panic button! And, he was dragging you over the desk by your hair!"

"I didn't mean to hit the button. It was an accident! I bumped my head under the desk."

"Oh…" Scott turned to Peter with his tail between his legs. "I'm so sorry, sir. I had no idea. I thought my best friend was in danger."

"They have lollipops, Peter. Why don't you ask for one?" Derek grinned. He was having so much fun.

Peter wanted to tell Derek to shut it or he would claw his eyes out, but they were in front of the doctor. He had an image to uphold. So he swallowed his annoyance and looked at the nurse. "Don't worry about it. It didn't even hurt. And, it's good to know that Dr. Stilinski is well-protected. After all, safety comes first."

Stiles was reminded of condoms at the word 'safety' and couldn't resist taking a look at Peter's groin. He also eyed Derek's shoulders for additional pleasure. It was too bad that Derek wasn't standing.

"Uh, doctor?" Scott breathed through his mouth. "You want to take a break? The broom closet's empty."

Stiles' cheeks flushed deep red. This was the worst day ever.

"I'm happy to help," Peter offered and Derek snarled at him. Peter's claws came out and Scott stood between them to keep things from escalating.

Stiles almost wished that Scott hadn't been here. He imagined Peter and Derek fighting over him in a coliseum full of spectators chanting their names. He would wear a crown and watch the fight with his beautiful queen, Cora. Then he would declare both champions winners and have the dirtiest threesome in the history of mankind while his queen watched with a drink in her hand.

"I'm sorry, guys. Here's your number, Derek. And, I'm sure Scott can help you with whatever problem you have, Peter." Stiles couldn't care less about the proper way of addressing a patient. He got up on shaky legs and ran out of the office.

"Gaaaahh!" Perhaps _he_ was the one who had to talk to Miss Morell.

* * *

**Author's note**:

I'm sorry, Stiles! *wipes away a fake tear*


	6. The apple of his eye

_Previously in 'Beacon Hills Eye Clinic'…_

_Stiles' Jeep had broken down in the middle of the road that Cora had taken on her way to work. While he had been grateful for her help, Stiles had ended up with lipstick on his cheek and a guilty heart for having enjoyed the kiss. Then all hell had broken loose when Derek and Peter had showed up at the clinic together, dressed in leather. Scott had punched Peter in the jaw and Stiles had run out of the office._

* * *

"Haahhh…"

A long, frustrated sigh filled the cold silence in the Jeep. For once, Stiles wasn't in the mood to listen to the radio. It might be quiet inside the car, but there was already enough noise inside his head. It had been three days since he had been victimized by the leathered Hales. No matter how hard he had been trying to move on, his mind was stuck on that disastrous day. His brain apparently knew how to hang on to images that were seen once in a lifetime.

It was as if God had said, 'Let there be leather'. And, as if wearing leather hadn't been destructive enough, the Hales had proceeded to take them off. The Lord had tested him and he had failed, running out of his office. That was just one of his theories though. He had also wondered if the Hales worked for the American Medical Ethics Committee. Perhaps they created the most seductive creatures in their secret underground lab and sent them to the newest clinics.

While he had locked himself in the broom closet, saving Stiles Jr. from exploding, Scott had struck a deal with Peter. The patient had demanded an eye massage and a date. It was a relief that he had even agreed to a deal. The clinic was still so young and the last thing that it needed was bad publicity.

He didn't blame his nurse for what had gone down. He _had_ hit the panic button with his head and Scott had only been looking out for him. It had been both touching and shocking; he hadn't thought that his best friend was capable of doing such a thing. If he hadn't been so turned on already, Stiles Jr. might've been inspired by the heroic action.

"Oh, no. No, no!" Stiles clutched at the wheel as the Jeep slowed down against his will. "Urgh, come on, Jeepie! Don't do this to me! What happened to you and me forever?"

Sadly, the Jeep only moved a few more feet before coming to a stop. Stiles felt his heart sink at its dying sound. The mechanic had warned him that this could happen again, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. He called the insurance company, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. If this was happening all over again, Cora Hale would show up and he'd end up with a scarlet mark on his face. He just hoped that the tow truck would come faster than her.

"Say no to patients! Say no to patients!" He yelled out his mantra as he waited. He didn't want to be wishy-washy like Charlie Brown. If Cora Hale or any other patient attempted to give him a kiss, he would put his foot down instead of flailing his arms.

"Hmm…" It was impossible to beat the werewolf speed though. Perhaps he could cover his face with a scarf and a woolly hat. It was the right weather, so nobody would think twice. In the clinic, he could always wear a mask. As unnecessary as it was, it would look professional and sanitary.

"Dr. Stilinski? You're stuck again? What are the odds?"

Stiles jumped as a French choir sang 'Déjà vuuuuu~' in his ears. He was quick to pick up the scarf from the passenger seat and wrap it around his face. Then he rolled down the window with an awkward smile. "Good morning, Miss Hale. Haha, yeah, what are the odds…"

"Perhaps it's time to get a new one? This one looks ancient." Cora got out of her car.

"He's not ancient. He's _mature_." Stiles jumped out of the Jeep and started to push it. He didn't want to owe her anymore.

"Well, mature or not, Jeeps are heavy. Want some help?" Cora watched the human struggle.

"No thanks. I got this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, thank you."

"If you say so." Cora leaned against her car and wondered if she could help him in another way. "Hey, doctor. Do you work out?"

"Does it _look_ like I work out?" Stiles asked through gritted his teeth. When had his boy gotten so heavy? It was probably all the stuff in the back.

Cora laughed. This was a new side of him. "You're welcome to drop by my gym any time. I train celebrities exclusively, but you seem to be the celebrity of the town."

"Thanks for the offer, Miss Hale. But it's the lack of will, not the lack of a trainer that got me here."

"A good trainer can give you a will." Cora helped the doctor change the direction of the Jeep. She didn't want him to keep going straight, pushing it all the way to the clinic.

"Will you get in your car and drive away if I tell you I'll think about it?" Stiles managed to get the Jeep off the main road.

"Hmm, let me think…" Cora tapped her chin.

"Do you think you can do that in your car?"

Cora looked at the doctor with a laugh. "Fine. Let me give you my card and leave you alone."

She slipped her business card into the doctor's coat pocket as he tightened his grip on his scarf. Thanks to the frosty weather, his skin looked paler today. She gave him a wistful smile before heading to her car. The doctor already smelled nice, but he would smell so much nicer as a Hale.

"Have a great day, Miss Hale!"

Cora waved and got in her car. She had taken this road every morning since she had run into the doctor. She had kept telling herself that it was the pretty scenery and the empty road, but the doctor might've left her some good memories. She checked the rearview mirror, only to bite her lips. The doctor was patting the hood of the Jeep, his shoulders drooping. She knew next to nothing about cars, but it didn't look promising when the Jeep had stopped twice in a few days. Hoping that the car would get fixed, she focused on her own problems.

What was she doing here? Did she want to complicate her life? She preferred casual relationships and didn't want to make the doctor break his rules for a fling. Then there was her brother. Hadn't she wanted to push the doctor towards him? So where was this greed coming from? She rolled down all the windows and picked up the speed. This was going to be her last time on this road.

* * *

Cora wasn't the only patient who had noticed the doctor's sad mood. Peter sighed as he sat down in the office. He was forced to pull out one of his emergency chocolate balls from his man purse. "Here. If I wanted a gloomy doctor, I would've gone to Dr. Greenberg."

"Thanks." Stiles pulled down his mask and dug into the ball.

"Since when do you wear a mask?" Peter glared at the ugly, blue thing that hid those pretty lips.

"Since this morning! This clinic takes hygiene issues very seriously." Stiles felt a little bit chirpy again. The chocolate was awesome.

"Then why isn't the other hot doc wearing one too?" Peter grunted. "I saw her in the waiting room."

"She doesn't want to ruin her lipstick. But don't worry. She'll come around."

Peter folded his arms and took a good look at the doctor. He didn't buy it, but his ears told him that he wasn't lying.

"Do you have another one?" Stiles smacked his lips.

"What are you? A chocolate thief?" Peter reached into his purse and pulled out two more.

"Thanks. These are great!"

"They're from Switzerland."

After trying and failing to yodel with a ball in his mouth, Stiles decided to stick with what he did best.

"I'm so sorry about the other day." He pulled up his mask and wheeled his chair towards Peter's. "And, thank you for cutting us some slack."

"Well, a massage and a date are far more pleasant than a lawsuit." Peter looked at the doctor as he expertly pressed around his eyes.

"Uh, perhaps you should close your eyes." Stiles found the icy blue eyes distracting.

"Why would I want to do that? I'm enjoying the view." Peter grinned. "But aren't you glad you're an _eye_ doctor? Think about what you would've been doing instead if you weren't."

"Haha, tell me about it. Ahaha…" Many types of doctor on patient action went through Stiles' mind.

"By the way, I noticed your Jeep was missing from the parking lot. Is that why you needed my balls?"

Stiles gave Peter the stink eye as he ignored the question and the utterly smug face. "It's in the shop. How do you even know I own a Jeep?"

"Cora may have mentioned it over dinner."

"Oh." Stiles put extra pressure on Peter's temples. He didn't want to talk about the Jeep or Cora.

Peter winced and changed the subject. Temples were vital points even to werewolves. "Have you thought about where you want to go tomorrow? Too bad there isn't a chocolate factory around here."

"No, I haven't. But I'm fine with wherever you want to go." Stiles wondered if he'd live to regret this. Where did evil masterminds hang out on a Saturday?

"Then let me give you something else to choose. What kind of leather gloves do you want to see tomorrow? I happen to collect gloves."

Stiles almost bit his silver tongue. He just couldn't catch a break.

"Tsk tsk, no need to smell so distressed. I've taken some pictures to give you an idea." Peter handed his phone to the doctor.

"Wow, how thoughtful of you. But I'm sure any pair would do!" Stiles had one eye closed as he looked through the pictures. Peter's hand looked amazing in those gloves. "But why do you even need gloves? Werewolves have a higher body temperature."

"Ah, that's the kind of thing you ask tomorrow, on a date." Peter got his phone back and stood up. It was time to make a dramatic exit. "Think about it and text me the ones you like, okay?"

He pulled out a pair of leather gloves and took his time putting them on. "And, I could print these out for you if you want. All of them."

At that very moment, Stiles learned the wet way that a mask was a decent substitute for a bib. It was true that you got to learn something new every day.

* * *

"So, Mr. Hale, Dr. Stilinski has mentioned some of the issues you have." Miss Morell gave her new patient a reassuring smile. It had taken her a while to learn his issues by heart, but she lived for challenges.

"He did?" Derek didn't like the air of mystery in her.

"Indeed. Your first psychotic girlfriend betrayed your trust and set your house on fire. That fire killed most of your family. Then your _uncle_ betrayed your trust and killed one of your sisters. So you killed him, but he didn't stay dead and now you stalk him in his parking lot."

Derek tried to protest, but she held up a finger. Stalking was serious business. "Then the Alpha pack took out two of your betas and gave you a hard blow to the head. And, your _second_ psychotic girlfriend went on a killing spree in some other town. Am I right?"

"Yeah." Derek shrugged. "I also thought I had lost my younger sister in the fire, but it turned out she'd been alive the whole time. I don't know who got burnt to death in her place though. And, it was my own claws that killed one of my betas. Then there's this powerful urge to kill my uncle again. This time, nothing's going to stop me from cutting him in half. But I'm here for something else today."

Miss Morell blinked. There was something else? She had estimated that the patient needed at least twenty-three years of extensive therapy. It had taken her hours to come up with a number. There were only a few therapists in the whole country that could do that and treat all those issues in a relatively short time. And, twenty-three years was only counting the issues that the doctor had mentioned. Now that the patient had told her more, she would like to add a couple more years.

"Then what are you here for?" She decided that she could treat the latest issue first.

Derek had pondered on how to say this, but there was no good way to say it. "I need to mate with Dr. Stilinski."

Miss Morell casually threw in another year. Derek Hale would be her last patient before she retired. "How many times have you seen him?"

"Three times."

"And, how many times did you meet your last girlfriend before you felt the same urge?"

Derek thought about it. "Twice."

"And, the one before that?"

"Once…" He saw the pattern. "But it's different with the doc. He's not a psychotic murderer. He's a good candidate."

"But this time, there are rules that stop you. He's your doctor."

Derek nodded and eyed the herbal tea in front of him. He was thirsty, but could he trust the therapist? He didn't want any happy pills.

"It's supposed to soothe you, Mr. Hale, not frighten you. I don't use poison or drugs, so I suggest you drink it."

Miss Morell stared at him until he caved in and picked up the cup. Her patients always learned to follow orders. "So, the clinic's policy aside, do you think Dr. Stilinski also felt such a strong connection to you? Mating means a lot to werewolves."

"He wants to sleep with me. That's all I know." Derek frowned at the God-awful taste. He didn't dare to ask what the ingredients were.

Miss Morell observed her patient as she thought about the doctor's call. It had been easy to tell that he was fond of the troubled werewolf. It wasn't the first time that he had made a referral, but it was certainly the first that he had sounded so smitten.

"Do you practice laughter therapy? I think I already talked a lot." Derek took another careful sip. He didn't think that he'd be allowed to leave until he was finished.

"I'm afraid I don't. But don't worry, Mr. Hale. I'm sure I'll find something that works for you." Miss Morell gave him a confident smile. She would have another altar boy bow down at her shrine.

* * *

Meanwhile, Stiles was in the waiting room, shaking his legs into oblivion. One might think that this was what he was here for, but he was here for something else: his upcoming professional misconduct. He found it unrealistic to think that he had the willpower to resist the Hales. It was only natural to cross the line with one of them, if not with more. It was unavoidable and only the best therapist in town would stand a chance of saving him.

It was as if he had typed in the data for his favorite werewolf and had printed out the top three versions with a 3D printer. He could hardly believe that he was attractive to this breed. Just a few years ago, he had worried that he'd never get anyone to notice him. Things had gradually gotten better since then, but he had never had such beauties like the Hales zeroing in on him.

"Oww…" He massaged his right leg as it started cramping. He looked around to focus on something other than the discomfort. While he had stayed in touch with Miss Morell ever since she had helped him grieve over his mother, he had never met her in her office. Everything still looked the same after all these years. He shook his head and tried to chase away the bad memories. He might be sitting in the same space, but he was stronger now.

His thoughts drifted to his beloved Jeep. It had originally belonged to his mother. When she had asked him to pick the right car for her, he had pointed at a blue Jeep that had looked cute and strong. They had decided to call it Jeepie. He had told her that he wanted to be like Jeepie; to bring smiles to her face and protect her. But he had learned that he couldn't be as strong as the Jeep. And, now he was forced to admit that his Jeep wasn't that strong anymore.

_Bleep._

Stiles checked his phone. It was a text message from his mechanic. He glanced at the nurse who looked busy on the phone and called the shop. There was nobody else around and whoever was in the office was taking forever.

"Hello? Kyle? Give me the good news, buddy. I need the good news." Stiles gnawed his thumbnail. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"I'm sorry, Stiles… I'm really sorry, but I think it's time."

Shot back through time, Stiles found himself at the hospital. The waiting room was quiet and the doctor was close, but he still couldn't hear him well. What? What do you mean it's time? Dad isn't here yet. It isn't time. Didn't you just hear me? No, I don't want to say goodbye. You can't make me. But why is this happening today? I thought you said we had more time. Don't tell me the same thing and go do something! No! How many times do I have to tell you? It's _not_ time!

Black spots messed with his vision. The doctor was fading away. His chest hurt. His throat hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt.

"Doctor?!"

Someone was shaking him. As if the barking wasn't bad enough, the shaking was vigorous. He was really going to be sick.

"Stiles!"

Wait. He knew this voice. He didn't want to think about it, but it was so loud.

"Kiss him! Do it now or I will!"

Okay, that voice, he knew. It was Miss Morell. But who was kissing whom? Those lucky bastards. Single life sucked.

Stiles gasped as a hot pair of lips crushed against his. He couldn't breathe. Was this the kiss of death? He watched Supernatural. Was he kissing none other than Death? Or was this Death's son? Or his grandson? Or his great-grandson? Or his great-great…

He pushed away the kisser and took a breath. His vision was getting cleared up. In three, two, one…

Oh, shit.

"Are you okay?"

Stiles shook his head as firmly as he could. No, he was notokay.

"You're not okay…?"

Stiles groaned as Derek kissed him again. That wasn't what he had meant. He could hear Miss Morell's smug voice, but he tuned her out. He didn't want to know what she was talking about. He didn't want to know if she had orchestrated this. And, he definitely didn't want to know if she had planned something more.

* * *

**Author's note**:

Friendly reminder that Ian actually likes gloves and owns many pairs. He tweeted about it last month and I haven't stopped thinking about it XD And, sorry for the delay. It's a crazy month, so I might take a week for the next chapter too D:


	7. The green-eyed monsters

_Previously in 'Beacon Hills Eye Clinic'…_

_Stiles' Jeep had broken down on the road again but he had actively pushed Cora away before he could end up in her car again. His worries about the Jeep, which had originally belonged to his mother, had dragged him down all day. Meanwhile, Peter had asked for an eye massage and a date for his compensation. And, Derek had gone to see Miss Morell, only to kiss Stiles who had been having a panic attack in the waiting room._

* * *

"Lydia, I'm fine," Stiles whined as his partner kept probing his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with my eyes! It was a breathing problem."

"Be quiet." Lydia grabbed his chin with a firm hand. Seeing black spots couldn't be treated lightly.

"But you know I can never be quiet. Tell me to do something I actually can."

Lydia opened her drawer and took out the mask that she had gotten from him. "Put this on and chew on the end. Or I'll have to gag you with a fake eye."

"Ooh, kinky. Haven't thought of that one." Stiles put on the mask and started chewing. It was weirdly comforting. He kept chewing until he got a better idea about what to do with his mouth.

"So what do you _see_?" He wriggled his eyebrows to let her know that it was on.

"I see stupidity. Layers of stupidity." Lydia put her tools down. "What do you see in Peter Hale?"

"Urgh, is this about the date? You know I have to do this. I couldn't stop Scott. I didn't see it coming! But how badass was that?!"

Stiles punched the air, imitating his nurse. But the only response that he got was a pair of eyes piercing him with judgment. "Um, I'll see to it that it never happens again."

"Good. Because if not, I'll see red."

"I see…"

"And, don't think I can't see through you. You're thrilled to go out with him. I could see it a mile off."

"But of course! You should see him with gloves! It's a must-see."

"Gloves aren't really my thing. I'd rather see him in a see-through shirt."

Stiles took a sacred moment to picture Peter in a black see-through shirt. "Yeah, I'd like that. His nipples would shine for all the world to see! Wait a second. Do you find him attractive? Well, that's a stupid question. Who wouldn't? But perhaps you could help me with this see-saw then. You see, I plan to send Cora to Allison, but I can't…"

"Stiles, we've worked too hard to get here. Don't forget that. Don't make me make you see stars." Lydia held up her fist.

"I was joking! I just thought fantasies could see us through this dry spell." Stiles shrugged. The Hales didn't need any more treatment, so his date with Peter would be his last interaction with them.

"Hey, is that a new lipstick I see?" He noticed her crimson lips.

"Yes, it's the right color for this season. I knew I had to have it once I saw it."

"Is that so? Hmm, are you sure you're not seeing someone behind my back?" Stiles eyed her suspiciously.

"Let me see…" Lydia pretended to think. "Yes, I'm sure I'm not seeing anyone. And, don't ask me stupid things just to win the game. I hope you start to see some sense."

"But you just repeated my words to score another point! It's twelve all now! By the way, you know who'd see the beauty in your fashionable lipstick?"

Lydia snorted. "I bet it's the one who you're seeing later."

"Your answer is correct!" Stiles took off the mask and got up with a grin. "And, as your prize, you get to _see_ your adorable partner win this round! _See_ you!"

He skipped out of the office, humming a merry tune. He was grateful that Lydia had indulged him instead of asking about the Jeep. She had even seen him get off Scott's bike but had only told him how nice his scarf was.

Stiles sighed as he walked into his office. He wasn't ready to accept what had happened to his Jeep or think about the kiss with Derek. He just wanted to go through the short day of work and jump in Peter's car. His issues could wait until tomorrow; he had an appointment with Miss Morell.

* * *

Stiles jumped in the silver Mercedes all right, but had to jump again at the driver's face. "Oh my God! What happened? And, you're not healing!"

"Your scent was all over my nephew. That's what happened. That bastard didn't even bother to cover his scent!" Peter's claws dug into the leather of the wheel. "And, I _am_ healing. It's just agonizingly slow."

"So you two had a werewolf battle? Over me? All rough and manly?" Stiles let out a pained cry.

"There's no need to weep. He's alive. I'd love to say he looks worse than me, but the bastard's an Alpha." Peter started the car.

"So he won the fight?" Stiles put on the seatbelt.

"_Nobody_ won the fight. Isaac and Cora got between us before I could take him down."

"Ah, at least Cora was there! Tell me someone filmed it. I'll even settle for a recording!" Stiles couldn't believe that he hadn't been present for his own fantasy. That was just his luck.

Peter laughed. "You smell like agony because you couldn't see us fight? If you let me kiss you too, we could make that happen in the next half hour."

Stiles moaned as memories of Derek kissing him came flooding back. "I didn't _let_ him kiss me. He just did. He pulled me out of a panic attack."

"A panic attack? Over what? The Jeep? And, couldn't he rather throw a glass of water over you?"

Stiles scowled. "I don't want to talk about it. I have a therapist for a reason. Let's talk about where you're taking me instead."

"I'm taking you to my den."

"Oh, really? I thought we'd be going out."

"We were going to. But you can't expect me to be caught dead looking like this." Peter pointed at his face. Then he gestured for the doctor to open the glove compartment. "Consider it a gift of apology."

Stiles' mouth watered at the sight of curly fries. "How did you know I liked these?" He rushed to put a couple in his mouth.

"I could smell it on you yesterday."

"At the clinic? But I brushed my teeth and I was wearing a mask!"

"I could smell it on your _gown_. And, I'm a sommelier, Stiles. I have a delightfully sensitive nose."

"Oh…" Stiles shivered at the sound of his name. They were on a date, so it made sense that Peter called him by his first name. "Wow, I didn't know you were a sommelier. Tell me all about it. I assumed you sold leather or something, haha."

Stiles relaxed in his seat as Peter started to share his life story. The heater warmed his skin, the voice warmed his heart, and the fries warmed his soul. He felt peaceful in what seemed like a long time. He mumbled a few mms and ahs as he finished the fries. There was a water bottle in the cup holder, but he was too tired and content to move a muscle. It had been an exhausting week and he hadn't slept much. It was finally Saturday and he could use some rest…

Peter shook his head in disbelief. The doctor had fallen asleep. He wasn't sure if he should be offended or pleased. Had his career sounded so boring? Or did the doctor trust him that much? When he stopped at a red light, he grabbed his coat from the back and covered his date. People usually fell asleep on him at the _end_ of the date.

He drove as slowly as possible, earning himself some time to think. He was literally a wolf that was taking his unconscious prey to the den. He had to decide how bad of a wolf that he was going to be. Infinite possibilities lay ahead and he could only choose one.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel, along to the rhythm of the doctor's heart. He hadn't expected to enjoy a silent Stiles, but he had a big heart with a good beat. Judging from his breathing, the doctor was out cold. He could easily carry him in his arms and let him rest in his bed. The first decision had been made. A sly smile hung on his lips as he sped up. He would find a way to keep the doctor at his place for as long as he could and piss off his nephew as much as he could.

* * *

"Cahhh…" Stiles let out a huge yawn as he stretched. He was still too sleepy to open his eyes, but he felt great. It was pleasantly warm and his silk sheets were wrapped around his legs and… Wait, these couldn't be his sheets. He didn't own anything silk. Stiles' eyes flew open as he sat up. He heard footsteps and saw a figure join him in the room. The light was too dim for his half-opened eyes, so he had to fumble for a weapon.

"Don't hurt me! Or I'll hurt you with this!" he croaked, brandishing the weapon. His throat was still asleep.

The light brightened and revealed the figure's face. It was Peter.

"It's not that big, Stiles. But don't worry. I'll be gentle."

Stiles looked down and dropped what he had been holding. It was a dildo. In fact, it seemed like he had happily slept next to a vast array of toys. There were things that he didn't even know, and boy, he needed to watch more porn.

"I take it you're fond of my bed." Peter leaned against the wall with a smile.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. What time is it?" Stiles lay back on the bed.

"Half past seven."

"What?!" Stiles sprang up. "I was out for two hours? When were you going to wake me up?"

"In the morning." Peter snickered.

"Thank God I woke up now then." Stiles stifled a yawn. "Hey, your face looks better. Did you get to nap too?"

"Nope. But I was able to engage in other types of healing activities, all thanks to you."

Stiles shuddered. He had no idea what Peter was talking about, but something told him that he was better off not knowing. "So uh, did I finish the fries before becoming the rudest date ever? Or are there any left? I'm starving."

"You finished them, but I cooked dinner. I just need to pick out the wine."

"Ah, you're an angel." Stiles took Peter's hand and got out of bed.

"An angel?" Peter looked offended. "Just for that, I think we should test how different kinds of gloves feel on your skin. Let's see if you still call me boring then."

Stiles groaned as he followed Peter out of the bedroom. Maybe he should've slept until morning. "Can I have a drink, please? Where's all the wine?" He flopped down on the couch.

"I'll go fetch a bottle. Feel free to check out my gloves collection. It's in that drawer over there."

"You keep gloves in the living room?"

Peter looked offended again. "Yes. Where else should they be? They're not just gloves. They're exquisite treasures. I show them to all the guests who deserve it."

Stiles nodded. And, here he had thought that _he_ had a problem with obsession. "I'll check them out. Thanks."

But he headed to the bathroom as soon as Peter left the living room. He remembered the first time that he had seen Peter. He was in the wolf's den. This was the perfect opportunity to find out the secret behind his beauty.

He locked the door and rummaged around while letting the tap run. He looked for a powerful potion in the medicine cabinet, but there weren't any mysterious bottles. Peter had lots of Armani and Tom Ford, but what kind of a self-respecting non-straight guy wouldn't? That was when he spotted a box of condoms. His eyeballs bulged out of his skull; the package read XXL.

"I hope you're not disappointed. We can always add a dildo if you're not satisfied."

Stiles shrieked, "how did you get through the door?!"

"The lock's broken." Peter grinned. "So what are you looking for?"

Stiles was about to come up with a lie when Peter stood alert. "What is it?"

"Trouble." Peter grasped Stiles' hand and headed to the door. He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Meanwhile, Derek was huffing right outside the door. He had searched for their scents all over the town, only to realize two hours later that they must be at Peter's place. After their fight, Peter had told him that he would take the doctor out, but he hadn't. The bastard had screwed him over. He had sent him on a fool's errand for messing up his face. In his defense, it was the psychopath that had attacked him first.

He didn't have to ring the bell as the door swung open. Trying to contain his anger, he cringed at the sight of his favorite creature holding hands with his least favorite one.

"You…" Stiles wriggled his hand out of Peter's grip.

"Me…" Derek didn't know what else to say.

"You!" Stiles pointed a finger in Derek's face. He was reminded of Derek leaving right after the kiss.

"Me…?" Derek wasn't sure why the doctor was angry. He was here to rescue him. And, why the hale was he hooking his arm through his uncle's?

"Derek, to what do we owe the displeasure of this visit?" Peter smirked at how close Stiles was standing next to him.

"Let him go. He looks exhausted. He's already paid the price. It must've been hell to spend some time with you."

"Wow, how kind of you to come all the way here to suggest that. But if he's exhausted, he can always go back to my bed."

"What? What did you do to him?" Derek's eyes flashed red.

"It's none of your damn business. Try not to ruin my perfectly good mood." Peter kissed the side of Stiles' head.

"Doctor, I'm taking you home now." Derek clasped Stiles' other hand.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you fled." Stiles wished that he had a third hand to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. He loved this.

"I didn't flee."

"Yes, you did, liar. Now go back to your empty loft where you belong." Peter yanked his date away from his nephew.

Stiles couldn't tell what had happened first: Peter pushing him to safety, Derek lunging at Peter or the door closing on its own. Not only did he have human eyes but they were also tired. But he rubbed them vehemently and focused on the werewolves. It was finally happening; the fight of the century, the battle of Gods, a Hale on Hale.

His stomach rumbled just in time for the show. He strolled towards the table and made himself comfortable. The food and wine were almost as good as the entertainment. The wrestling was over and the Hales were now clawing at each other. They looked like overgrown kittens and he had to aww. Then his thoughts took a dark path and ran into a cock sword fight. Perhaps he could see that with another glass of wine.

"Derek, just so you know, Peter called me Stiiiiles," he prompted shamelessly.

Derek finally managed to slash Peter's shirt.

"You animal! This is a new Versace! Why do you even have eyes?!" Peter threw Derek across the living room.

"Hmm, did I also tell you that Peter has my scent all over his dildo? The purple one." Stiles poured more wine as Derek grabbed Peter's hair. It was so hot.

"And, there's my DNA on his pillow."

Derek pulled as hard as he could.

"Oww!"

"Oh, and Peter, there was a second kiss yesterday. Totally unnecessary."

Derek was left with half of his eyebrows before he could shield himself. That was it. Nobody messed with his source of pride. He wolfed out and stomped towards the drawer. It was an eye for an eye.

"Don't you dare touch them!" Peter turned into his beta form and tackled Derek from behind. He was going to defend his gloves to death.

"Whoa, easy, guys. Keep the faces human! I like it that way." Stiles poured himself another glass. The wine was so good.

Derek fought off Peter, sending him into a wall. He turned off the lights, activated his infrared, and threw the doctor over his shoulder. But Peter caught up before he reached the door and Stiles found himself in a tug of war.

"Let go," Derek warned. Peter was hanging on to the back of the doctor's shirt.

"_You_ let go!" Peter tugged hard and revealed a back full of pale skin and pretty moles.

Derek turned around to give him the Alpha glare, but all Peter did was fling himself at them. He struggled to stay upright, but it didn't take long for all of them to hit the floor. Peter winced at the weight of two men on top of him and dug his claws into Derek's sides. Derek threw his head back and roared in pain.

"Oh my God… many of my fantasies are coming true today." Stiles moaned in the middle of the sandwich. Peter's heavy breathing was tickling the back of his neck while Derek's was warming his collarbones. "Yeah, this is it. Now I just have to figure out how to freeze time."

Peter was about to roll them over and crush Derek when a hand ran up his thigh. "Stiles?"

"Shh… nobody talks in my fantasies. Hic!" Stiles started hiccupping as he let his other hand roam over Derek's back. Hiccupping wasn't a part of his fantasies either, but the tipsiness had taken control over his body.

Derek groaned as he did his best to ignore the touch and focus on healing. To make matters worse, the doctor kept wriggling, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He tried to get up, but the doctor hooked his legs around his, pinning him in place.

Peter wasn't doing much better. He wanted to breathe in the scent of Stiles' arousal but didn't want to be scarred because of his nephew's. Besides, Stiles was kneading the side of his ass and it was only a matter of time before he got fully hard. He'd be damned if he'd hump his date in front of his rival and let him see the cutie come undone. Stiles was supposed to be their prey, but it felt like the tables had been turned.

"Hic!" Stiles moved his hands diligently. He knew all too well that nothing good lasted forever. He caressed here and squeezed there, eager to get more noise out of the Hales. He wished that they would touch him back, but he understood that they had a lot of healing to do. If he waited, they would finish healing and put their hands somewhere useful. If only he could wait a little bit longer…

"Not again…" Peter hissed in frustration. "What's with him and falling asleep?"

"At least he enjoyed the show," Derek grunted.

The door bell rang ominously, cutting off the family conversation.

"Tell me it's not Cora," Peter sighed. "But of course it's Cora. Who else could it be? How do we even do a three-way battle?"

While Derek got up and carried Stiles to the couch, Peter answered the door.

"Sheriff!" He remembered doing his homework and finding out that the doctor was the sheriff's son. This was turning into a nightmare.

"Good evening, Mr. Hale. Your neighbors complained about the noise in your apartment."

"Really? Which ones?" Peter smiled as his claws came out.

"Ohh… just like that," Stiles mumbled. "No, no, you first. Me first? You're dirty…"

"Stiles…?" The sheriff pushed Peter out of the way and stepped inside. His jaw dropped as he saw his son sprawled out on the couch. He was on his stomach with the back of his shirt torn out and there was blood all over his body. He smelled alcohol and sweat, and the other werewolf was standing next to the couch with a guilty look on his face.

He pulled out both his service weapon and his backup weapon. "Hands in the air!"

"We can explain." Peter's hands shot up. He was tired of healing.

"You can explain at the station." The sheriff motioned for them to turn around.

"It's not blood. It's red wine," Peter explained as he got handcuffed.

"Around his sides?"

"Oh, that's blood all right."

"_My _blood," Derek made it clear. He didn't want to upset the sheriff any more than they had already had.

"You're still going to the station." And, with that final statement, the sheriff slapped his son's back.

"Owww!" That was the first time that Stiles had howled as well as a werewolf.

* * *

**Author's note**:

So sorry for the late update! *hugs you all* It took me ages to come up with the last scene. I hope it worked for you :D


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